


The Lincoln Chronicles, Part 1

by LadyShadowWalker



Category: None - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Linctavia - Freeform, Smut, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-19 19:26:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 38,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4758089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyShadowWalker/pseuds/LadyShadowWalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Canonverse Linctavia. The 100 from Lincoln's point of view, starting with when the Sky People land on earth and covering all of Season 1. Chapters with * denote NSFW.</p><p>Goal completed! 30 chapters in 30 days. I may not have reached 50k words (or even 40k), but unlike Charles Dickens, I'm not paid by the word.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. My Name is Lincoln

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a writing exercise to get my words flowing again because I haven’t written anything creatively in about 5 years. I've never written fanfic before but I couldn't get Linctavia out of my head so I started posting this on tumblr and am now posting here.

 

* * *

The skunk family was back.

Lincoln paused at the edge of the clearing, watching as the mother skunk led her four young ones to a fallen tree trunk and they began digging at the ground, looking for grubs. He smiled at the sight and reached into his day pack to grab his journal. He had tried to sketch them the last time he had seen them but a noise had startled them and sent them scurrying into the underbrush before he could finish it. He climbed up onto a stone outcropping and settled in with his makeshift pencil, putting it to paper as he traced outlines of the little forest family. The corner of his mouth ticked up as he observed the antics of the kits playfully tumbling over each other.

In unison, the skunk family stilled their movement, frozen by some unknown danger. A loud popping sound rang through Lincoln's ears as the skunks took off in fear. Lincoln jumped off his perch, ducking behind it as his eyes scoured the landscape, trying to figure out where the noise had come from. A streak of light in the sky drew his attention up and he watched as the light came closer and closer. He felt the familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through him, excitement and anticipation of what this object could be, what he hoped this object falling out of the sky _might_ be.

He had seen something come from the sky once before, a ship of sorts, and he had found a man inside. But that had been so long ago he sometimes wondered if it were a dream instead. The comet trail disappeared behind the treetops moments before he felt the earth gently shake. This wasn't a dream. He took off running toward where he had last seen the light. He was a Scout for the Woods Clan and it was his job to find out what exactly had landed in their territory.

As he drew closer, the smell of charred wood tingled his nostrils. He came upon the start of the debris field, trees broken like twigs by the rough landing. Lincoln changed directions, deciding to go up into the treetops that still stood rather than expose himself among the felled trees. He swiftly moved from branch to branch, tree to tree, inching closer to the metal object glinting in the sunlight. This ship was much bigger than the one he had seen as a boy. His heart began to thump loudly in his ears, whether in fear or anticipation, he did not know, but something was happening. There was a grinding noise accompanied by a loud _whoosh_ as the side of the ship creaked open and folded out to the ground. And then he saw her.

She stood proud and strong in front of the burgeoning crowd behind her, a warrior's pose with her chin up and her chest thrust out. The wind toyed with her hair, blowing it away from her face, exposing her sharp, angular jawline and the high arch of her brow. Lincoln found himself gasping for breath as the sight of her had caused him to forget to breathe. A man stood behind her, his arms stretched to hold back the others. There were so many others all crammed into the metal ship yet this man made them wait for the woman. She took a tentative step and then another one. She jumped off the edge of the ramp onto solid ground, the excitement in her smile contagious as Lincoln once again felt the corner of his mouth rising in response. She thrust her arms into the air and shouted a rousing battle cry as a cue to the warriors behind her who began streaming out of the ship, joining her on the ground.

The smile swiftly evaporated from Lincoln's face as he realized the implications of what he was witnessing: an invasion. He quickly pulled his journal out of his pack and flipped to a blank page. He needed to record this in order to report back to Anya, his unit leader. Their number was small, he counted 99 with two additional bodies carried out of the ship, but if they were anything like the Mountain Men, small numbers didn't matter. Lincoln hurriedly finished sketching an outline of the ship but instead of putting his journal away and setting off for Anya's outpost, he found himself turning to a new page and starting another sketch, one of eyes that sparkled and a smile that teased.


	2. This Only Ends One Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lincoln spies on the 100.

* * *

The glow from a bonfire and the merry-making of the invaders echoed throughout the forest, breaking the normal nighttime peacefulness Lincoln was used to. His visit with Anya had taken longer than expected. She had already known of the invaders as a group of them had found their way to Mount Weather. They had been mistaken for Mountain Men and one of them was even speared and strung up as bait in retaliation for what the Mountain continually took from them. It was Lincoln who revealed to Anya their true origin: Sky People. For now, Anya ordered him to continue his scouting mission and gather more intel.

Instead, Lincoln found himself hopping from tree branch to tree branch high above the campsite the invaders had started setting up, not looking for intel but looking for _her_ , his angel from the heavens. The other one, the man who seemed to be her enforcer, had brought back food for the Sky People so she should be in the crowd with them but she wasn't. Had she been the one the other Scouts had speared? Lincoln banished the thought from his head as he caught movement in the surrounding darkness. It was the woman but she was not alone. A sharp pang in Lincoln's chest made him swallow tightly as he watched her kissing another man. He wasn't the only one who found them as her enforcer appeared, calling out a name, "Atom," and the other man stood up to obey. Lincoln’s angel stormed off toward the metal ship and disappeared inside, leaving Lincoln to follow her enforcer. As he watched the enforcer string Atom up to a tree as a warning, Lincoln felt a smug satisfaction and allowed himself a sliver of a grin beneath his mask.

Lincoln made another circle through the treetops around the camp but there wasn’t much information to gather. These "warriors" were so untried and weak that an army of newly minted Seconds would have an easy time taking them down. They did not seem to be a threat but that is why Anya was having him monitor them. Things could change quickly.

* * *

When he returned to the camp the next night, Lincoln noted in his journal the progress these Sky People were making on the walls. On his way to the camp, he had spotted the Enforcer with a hunting party, except instead of bringing back a meal, they were carrying back a body. His eyes scanned the crowd of ~~warriors~~ children, looking for his angel and not spotting her. He didn't like the bitter taste of worry in his mouth. He lived alone in his cave for a reason. He did not want to care about people because it hurt too much when he inevitably had to kill them and he knew he would have to kill her one day, too...if she wasn’t already dead.

One of the Sky People shouted out, announcing the Enforcer had returned with his hunting party. Lincoln heard the voice of his angel first before her saw her leaving the ship. He was too far away to make out the words but his heart fluttered traitorously at the sound anyway. She approached the Enforcer who tried to keep her from reaching the body they had brought back but she pushed him aside and knelt down beside it, pulling back the jacket from his face and revealing Atom. This time, Lincoln did not smile. His angel had liked this boy and now her pain and tears ate away at Lincoln even as he crossed off another tally mark in his journal. Five down, ninety-six to go.


	3. I Saw a Ship Fall from the Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven lands on earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to use Trigedasleng spelling for names but then realized if I did, I should have been spelling Lincoln as “Linkon” since the beginning. Instead, I’ll just reference them once with how he “hears” their names in his head and then revert to the traditional spelling to make it simple.

 

 

* * *

For ten days, even though their incompetence made his head ache, Lincoln had been patiently observing the invaders from high above them in the trees. It was yet another eventful day for the invaders with an unsuccessful lynching that ended in a chase and another death. Their numbers were now down to 94. Two leaders had clearly emerged: his angel's Enforcer ( _Belomi_ ) and a blonde woman ( _Klark_ ) who appeared to be their healer. He had half a mind to report back to Anya that if they left these invaders to their own devices, the Sky People would kill themselves out within the year.

Dawn was coming in a couple of hours yet everyone was just now finally bedding down for the night, including Bellamy who was enjoying the company of two delightfully cheery females. Lincoln debated on heading back to his cave and catching up on some sleep but he felt himself lingering instead, his gaze returning again and again to the tent his angel had disappeared into earlier, almost as if he could will her back out. Just one last glimpse of her so he could remember her in his dreams tonight but it was not to be. He settled into the crook of a branch and pulled out his journal. If he couldn't see her, then he would at least draw her again.

He must have dozed off because a faint noise startled him to attention, a familiar popping sound. He looked to the sky and saw it: another ship falling to the earth. Reinforcements. Anya was right to be wary of these seemingly harmless invaders. The camp below him stirred to life as they stumbled out of their tents and pointed up at the sky. They would be going after it soon. This time, Lincoln didn't linger; he briskly moved through the trees until he was far enough away from the camp to climb down. He almost landed on top of Bellamy. His grip tightened on the branch above him as he pulled himself back up into the tree. Bellamy was rushing in the direction of where the ship landed. Alone. Lincoln contemplated taking him out now before the new batch of Sky People could join their forces but as long as they did not attack directly, his job was to watch and not to interfere.

"Bellamy! What are you doing?" It was her voice, the voice of the angel whose name he still did not know. She had followed after her Enforcer, her _brother_ , and she was angry. Bellamy shouted back at her, pushing her away from him. Lincoln had his dagger in his hand before he even realized his intention: to protect his angel from her own brother. He calmed his racing heart and slid the dagger back into its scabbard. He was not to interfere. Their fight escalated but Bellamy did not touch her again. As she stormed off back toward camp, Lincoln fought the impulse to follow after her, to make sure she was okay. He had seen the tears in her eyes and he reflexively reached for his dagger again. No interference, he reminded himself as he followed after Bellamy instead.

The ship had landed in a clearing so Lincoln was unable to get too close without drawing attention to his presence. It was a small ship, almost identical in size to the one he witnessed crashing to earth when he was a boy. His hand reached up to his shoulder as he absentmindedly felt for the first scar he had received there. His first kill mark.

Bellamy didn't remain at the ship for long; he retrieved a metal box and took off again, heading toward the river. Lincoln crept closer to the ship, wondering if it meant whoever was inside had not survived the landing. Loud noises in the underbrush paused his movement and drew his attention. Clarke, the other leader, was running toward the ship. The single passenger, a female, stepped out of the ship onto earth for the first time, spinning around in awe at the rain. One of the boys from camp joined them, hugging and kissing the new arrival. Lincoln allowed himself to relax. One more person was not going to make a difference and from the discussion the three were now having, the only item of importance she had brought with her was the metal box Lincoln had seen Bellamy remove. Lincoln sighed. It was going to be another busy day for the Sky People.


	4. Please Don't Hurt Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lincoln finds an injured Octavia

 

* * *

Lincoln had spent most of the day following the two leaders around between where the new ship had landed and the camp they had set up around the old ship. From high up in the trees, he was only able to catch snippets of conversation. Clarke, the female leader, was organizing some project with the newest Sky Person ( _Reivon_ ) while Bellamy was busy directing everyone else to assist them. It was the first time Lincoln had seen the Sky People working together toward a common goal since they had built the wall around the camp.

He scanned the faces of the people below him, looking once again for his angel. He had not seen her since that morning when she and Bellamy fought. Lincoln tried to quell his concern for her absence by telling himself that she was probably hiding out in her tent or the ship, still angry with her brother. As the day grew long and dusk started to fall, however, he was no longer able to ignore the growing sense of dread when he still did not spot her back at the camp.

As any good tracker does, Lincoln headed back to the place he last saw her and retraced her steps. She was tiny and naturally gentle of foot so the signs of her passing through were difficult to spot but he was well-trained. As he reached the ravine that led to the Woods Clan's Sacred Hunting Grounds, her trail abruptly stopped. Lincoln steeled himself, already knowing what it meant as he stepped closer to the edge of the ravine. He leaned over to look and the tangy, unfamiliar taste of fear left him clenching his jaw as he saw her body lying so still and quiet hours after she must have fallen. It took him only moments to reach the bottom of the ravine, his footing careful so as not to send any loose rocks down on top of her. He prepared himself to cross off another mark in his book and bent down next to her.

A glowing red tinged the evening sky as the sound of thunder rumbled in the distance. She looked up, his fallen angel. Lincoln froze, unable to move, unable to breathe, unsure of why his heart was pounding so fast. She was injured but _alive_. Her mouth parted and her eyes widened at the sight of him crouched next to her. Seeing she was conscious, Lincoln rose up in front of her, intending to leave her free to return to camp. _No interference_ had become his refrain. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed again, unconscious. He knelt back down beside her and swept the dark tendrils of hair gently away from her face. The wound on her head was deep and bloody, however, it was mostly bluster. She would have a headache for a few days and a nice scar but it wasn't too worrisome. His eyes skimmed over the rest of her, falling on her right leg where a nasty gash cut straight to the bone. Even if she were awake, she wouldn't have been able to walk. _No interference_ , he repeated over and over in his head as he slid his arms under her prone body and lifted her up. He was only to observe, not to interfere. Lincoln began carrying her through the ravine toward the Sacred Hunting Grounds, toward his cave.

She was still unconscious when they arrived and he softly set her down on the cave floor, pausing a moment to tenderly brush back a wisp of hair from her face. His angel in his home. He knew the trouble he was going to be in if Anya found out what he had done. And if Anya found out, she would surely tell Indra, the Chief of _Tondisi_ , the village where Lincoln had grown up. He frowned, knowing what the repercussion would most likely be: banishment. Both Anya and Indra had given him enough chances over the years to fall in line with the Warrior Code and he knew they wouldn't be so forgiving this time.

But already, he found himself back in the main room of his cave, stoking a fire and laying a piece of metal over the hot flames. While he waited for it to reach the right temperature, Lincoln pulled out his medicine pack. Nyko, his friend and a healer for their clan, replenished it for him every few months. Living alone on the fringe of the Woods Clan territory allowed him certain freedoms but it also came with its own dangers. He sorted through various herbs and tinctures and gathered the ones he needed before checking on the hot metal and seeing it was finally ready. He inhaled deeply, readying himself mentally as if he were going into battle. Noises and groans from the next room where he had laid his angel down alerted him that she was awake again. His resolve wilted momentarily. No, this needed to be done and he was the only one to do it. Still in his full battle gear and with the heated poker raised in front of him, he strode into the room.

"Please, please don't hurt me!" She begged over and over again. Lincoln tuned her cries out. It was for her own good and if he hesitated he wasn't sure he would be able to go through with it. He grabbed her right leg, pulled it straight, and lowered the hot metal onto the torn and jagged edges of her wounded knee. The sound of her flesh sizzling and the acrid smell of her skin burning turned his usually iron stomach churning. It definitely wasn’t because he was purposefully hurting her, he lied to himself. Her screams faded to a gurgle as the sudden pain knocked her back out again.


	5. Burned a Village to the Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lincoln visits Anya.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first attempt at dialogue.

 

 

* * *

After Lincoln finished tending to her knee, he reached up to inspect her head wound, his fingertips hovering a hair's breadth away from her skin. He curled his fingers into his palm instead. It seemed almost a violation to touch her so intimately while she lay unconscious.

He returned to the outer room of his cave for some water and a cloth to clean the blood off her face. A rumble from above stopped him as he recognized the sound of hoof beats. Lincoln dropped the cloth into a bowl of water and straightened away from it, rushing around the cave to hide any evidence of his angel in the next room. He prayed to the ancestors that she would remain unconscious long enough for him to deal with whoever had come to visit.

"Lincoln!" He heard Caliban's voice call out. Anya had sent one of her Lieutenants.

Lincoln quickly climbed out of his cave to head off Caliban from entering. "I'm here," he said.

"Anya sends for you immediately. Did you not see what happened tonight?"

Lincoln shook his head, hiding his relief that Caliban was not there because Anya had somehow figured out Lincoln had interfered with the Sky People.

"Those invaders sent a missile into one of our villages." Caliban spat at the ground in disgust.

This time, Lincoln tried to hide his shock. What had the Sky People done? What had _he_ done, saving such an enemy?

“I've brought a spare horse." Caliban gestured behind him. “We leave now.”

"Okay. Let me grab my things." Lincoln ducked back inside his cave and hurriedly checked on ~~his angel~~ his enemy. So still and pale with her eyes closed in slumber, the dark crescent of her lashes caressing her cheek. He swallowed back the tight emotion clogging his throat. His interference this time might have just cost him everything.

“Hurry up, Lincoln!” He heard Caliban calling to him. He looked her over one more time. He doubted she would wake before he returned but if she did, her knee would at least prevent her from leaving his cave. She would be safe here until he returned from Anya's and then he would take her back and leave her somewhere close to the camp where her brother could find her.

 

* * *

When they arrived at the nearest outpost for the Woods Clan, Caliban gestured for him to enter first where Anya was waiting for him. "Lincoln, explain to me why you didn't come here straight away after you saw reinforcements arrive." Her arms were crossed over her chest and her voice held no qualms. Behind her stood Tomac and Sindri, their arms also crossed and with identical frowns.

"It was only one person in a small ship. I thought it best to continue observing them a bit longer before reporting back." It was mostly the truth. Lincoln had decided on the ride over that as long as he didn't have to directly lie, he was not going to tell Anya about the woman in his cave

"How do you explain the missile?"

Lincoln couldn't because he didn't know about a missile. "Are you sure it wasn't the Mountain Men?" he asked.

"Mountain Men? It was the Sky People!” Sindri yelled. “They burned down my village!" He took a step forward, clenching his fists in anger. "They killed five people!" Sindri's voice broke and his face crumpled. "My family."

Anya, however, showed him no compassion and turned to glare at Sindri.  "Enough!" She gestured to Caliban. "Take him outside to get some air. He is worthless to me in this condition." Anya waited until Sindri and Caliban had left before turning back to Lincoln. "Sindri is right. They invaded our lands, Lincoln. They burned a village to the ground that left five of our people dead."

A disturbance outside brought everyone's attention back toward the door. "It sounds like Vik is back," Tomac said.

A moment later, Vik entered the room, ducking his head down to avoid hitting it on the short doorway. He wasted no time delivering his news. "You were right. They've sent an armed raiding party into the Sacred Hunting Grounds."

"How many?" Anya asked.

"I counted seven."

"Tomac." Anya waved him forward. "You and Vik take Caliban and go send a message to the Sky People. They killed five of ours, we kill five of theirs. _Jus drein jus daun!_ "

" _Jus drein jus daun!_ " Vik and Tomac repeated before leaving.

"Lincoln.” Anya turned her attention back to him. “Do you think I don't know that you've grown attached to them?" She asked as she reached out her hand and hesitantly placed it on his arm. "They are not some injured animal you can nurse back to health this time, Lincoln. They are dangerous." At his lack of response, Anya sighed with resignation. "I'm not going to force you to kill any of them today. Just be ready for next time when I _do_ expect it of you."

Lincoln simply nodded because he couldn't argue with the truth. The Sky People had become a threat.


	6. You Saved My Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lincoln saves Octavia from getting speared.

 

* * *

As Lincoln road back with Vik, Caliban, and Tomac toward the Sacred Hunting Grounds, his angel's first words to him continued to haunt his thoughts. _Please don't hurt me_ , her voice repeated over and over again. Lincoln shook his head, trying to clear it but instead Anya's voice echoed, "They are not some injured animal you can nurse back to health this time." Anya had struck a nerve, coming much too close to the truth about the injured Sky Person currently recuperating in his cave.

Caliban raised his arm, signaling the group to stop. "We'll leave the horses here and use the trees instead."

They dismounted and Lincoln reached his arm out to Caliban in goodbye. "I part ways with you here. Anya has ordered me to continue observing for the time being." The morning autumn air was still cool enough for him to see his breath.

"Are you sure you don't want to join us hunting the invaders?" Caliban asked as Vik and Tomac scaled up into the trees ahead of him. "It will be like old times when we were still at war with _Azgeda_ ," he said, his teeth glinting menacingly as he smiled at the memory.

Lincoln shook his head, remembering the old times fighting against the Ice Nation in a very different light than Caliban. "I haven't slept in a couple of days. Maybe next time."

Caliban shrugged and turned away. "More Sky People for me then," he said as he jumped up to catch hold of a branch before pulling himself up into the forest above.

Lincoln watched Caliban climb higher, waiting until he disappeared from sight before turning around and heading back toward his cave. He skirted the outside of the Hunting Grounds, not wanting to encounter any of the Sky People who had made the mistake of crossing over into their most sacred of lands. He felt guilty, like maybe it was his fault they had bombed a village, his fault the Sky People were now in their sacred lands. Because of her. No, he had to believe Anya was right; the missile was the start of their war and this was a raiding party, not a rescue party.

A flash of movement caught his attention and left him frowning. It was his terrible fate to encounter one of them anyway. It was a female, stumbling her way through the forest straight toward him. It was _her_ , dammit! He didn't waste time thinking about how she could have possibly escaped, much less be running on her injured leg because Caliban and the others would be there soon and see her. A scream sounded nearby. She froze in her tracks, looking around. Lincoln took the opportunity to grab her. His hand covered her mouth and stifled her scream while his other arm wrapped tight about her waist. The screams grew closer as he dragged her down behind a tree.

Another female ran past where they had been moments earlier. Lincoln held fast as the woman in his arms struggled against him, trying to free herself so she could call out for help. But suddenly, the running female was thrown back, pinned to a tree by a spear through her chest. He felt the resistance melt from his angel at the realization that it might have been her instead. He loosened his hand from over her mouth and when she didn't scream, he removed it. He wrapped his arms about her waist and pulled her away from the hunting grounds.

He didn't set her down until they reached the border of the sacred grounds. He thought about pointing her in the direction of her camp but she might just wander back into the grounds and get herself speared anyway. He didn't know what to do so he just turned around and started walking back toward his cave. Moments later, he heard her hobbling along behind him and the corner of his mouth tweaked up as he fought from smiling. She was much stronger than he had realized. He intentionally slowed his pace for her, wanting to see how long she could keep up.

They were almost back to his cave when he heard her exclaim behind him, "ugh! My leg." Lincoln fought back another smile as he stopped and turned around, assessing her. She leaned against a tree, panting from the pain her leg must be causing her. "I need to rest."

Lincoln didn't wait for her to finish her sentence before striding over to her and effortlessly lifting her into his arms. Her eyes were intently studying his face and it took all his will-power and stoicism to not return the gaze.

"Thank you. You saved my life." He tried to remain unmoved at her words. After everything she had been through, after everything he had done to her, she was thanking him for it. Lincoln's heart ached as he felt the guilt rising up again. 

"That girl back there, I knew her. So, if she's here, then so is my brother. Please! You have to help him, too. They'll kill him."

 _Please_ , the first word she had ever spoken to him. He had ignored her before but he wasn't so certain he could this time, not if it was because of him that her brother was now out there being hunted by Lincoln’s people.

When he still didn't respond, she tossed her head back in frustration. "You don't understand me, do you? Great."

He finally glanced at her, debating whether he should calm her fears, talk to her. The Woods Clan had their own language, _Trigedasleng_ , a shibboleth used to identify the enemy, and only the warriors spoke _Gonasleng_ , English, so the innocent were spared being tortured for information. She was the enemy and if he revealed he knew English, when she returned to the others, she would tell them.

They reached the entrance to his cave and he set her down on her feet while he pushed back the grate covering the opening. He lifted her up again and carried her inside, setting her down gently on the floor of the main room. He didn't know how she had gotten out of his cave before but if he were to save her brother like she had asked, he needed to make sure she didn't get out again. It was too dangerous for her out there alone right now. His eyes roamed around his cave as he quickly improvised a solution to keep her safe.

"Why are you taking care of me?" she asked. Because the thought of her dying sent tremors through his soul. Because he had thought her dead too many times already and he wasn't willing to let it happen if he could stop it. Lincoln remained quiet as he pulled out some metal rope and grabbed the lock off his book cabinet.

"You found me at the bottom of that ravine. Fixed my knee." Lincoln grasped both of her wrists and began wrapping the chain around them. "What the hell are you doing?" He ignored her as he continued his task, treating it like when he had to cauterize her wound. "Please don't do this." She begged as he finished securing her wrists and began dragging her over toward the wall of his cave. "Ah! Stop it! No, stop it! Stop! Please! Please don't do this." He looped the chain through a metal ring embedded into the wall he normally used for drying herbs and secured it with the lock. She was crying now, each sob sending an arrow of pain through his chest, so he hurried out of the cave to save her damn brother.


	7. That's My Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lincoln saves Bellamy and the others

* * *

Lincoln made his way quickly toward the Sacred Hunting Grounds. If his people had already managed to kill Bellamy, one of the leaders, Lincoln worried of retaliation by the Sky People and that they would do more than burn down a village next time. It would escalate until one side wiped out the other.

The Sky People were loud and clumsy and Lincoln easily tracked them back to where the other girl had been speared earlier by Vik. Once Lincoln saw Bellamy was still alive, he turned away, heading deeper into the hunting grounds, knowing how he could save them. The Sacred Hunting Grounds fell within the yellow shadow of the Mountain, making it generally off-limits for humans but a sanctuary for animals. As long as the Woods Clan respected the land, the yellow cloud would remain at bay and they could come in and freely hunt at certain times of the year. Lincoln needed to make his people believe the Sky People were disrespecting the hunting grounds just as they had disrespected the Mountain a week earlier, causing the yellow storm that took his angel's first kiss away from her.

He unhooked his horn from his belt and blew it twice, long and hard, the code to warn his people of an incoming yellow fog, before doubling back to where he had last seen the invaders. Caliban, Vik, and Tomac wouldn't be returning any time soon because their current mission was now over; they would assume the yellow fog either killed the remaining Sky People or allowed them to escape. The Sky People, on the other hand, had made an improvised shelter under a tarp. They just needed to remain under there long enough for Lincoln to retrieve his angel and return her to her people.

When he entered the cave, he found her hunched over with her back to him. He crouched down silently behind her with the key to the lock in his hand. He paused, wanting to touch her, to comfort her in some way. She turned her head and Lincoln saw a peculiar glint in her eyes moments before he felt a blinding pain knocking him sideways. His lovely angel had found herself a rock and was now raising it above his head a second time. His last thought before everything faded to black was that he had managed to underestimate her strength and resourcefulness once again. 

* * *

As Lincoln came to, his first sight was his angel free and reunited with her brother. He wondered for how long he had been unconscious as he tried to gather his wits about him and keep them from realizing he was awake.

"How did you find me?" His angel asked.

"Followed him." Another voice sounded behind Lincoln as he carefully inched a poisoned blade out from its sheath strapped to his forearm. It was his own fault; he should have been more aware when he had left the hunting grounds. He could blame it on lack of sleep but he knew it was the tiny thrill of excitement at seeing _her_ again that had hastened him back to his cave without him taking his normal precautions.

"We should go. Now. Before he wakes up," his angel said.

"He's not going to wake up," Bellamy replied and there was more movement behind Lincoln as he recognized the sound of a spear tip scraping along the cave wall. They were grabbing weapons. Lincoln palmed his poisoned blade as he assessed his surroundings. In addition to his angel, there were three others in the cave.

"Bellamy, stop! He didn't hurt me. Let's just go." His angel was trying to protect him. Lincoln held still, wondering if there might be another way out of this where he didn't have to kill anyone or die himself. But then one of the other two approached Lincoln from behind and he readied himself to fight.

"They started this," Bellamy replied. "Finn, move."

Finn, the one hovering behind him, reached for the horn on Lincoln's belt and Lincoln reacted swiftly, striking fast and stabbing with his blade. If he were to die today, it would not be alone. Before the first one fell, Lincoln swung his leg around, knocking Bellamy's legs out from under him. Lincoln jumped quickly to his feet as Bellamy recovered and came after him with a spear. He grabbed hold of it, yanking it from Bellamy's hands, and pinned Bellamy to the ground.

"Stop! That's my brother!" His angel cried out to him. He hesitated. Could he do it? Kill him? He pressed down harder into the man's throat with the tip of his spear. Something heavy landed on the back of his head and everything dissolved into darkness.


	8. They've Been Watching Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lincoln is taken captive by the Sky People

* * *

When Lincoln next regained consciousness, it was to discover his hands tied behind his back and his angel's brother standing over him with a spear.

"He's awake! Hold him down!" Bellamy shouted to the two other Sky People with him.

Lincoln fought back, writhing and thrashing at the invaders. Blows rained down on him as they kicked and punched at him. He kicked the legs out from one of them, sending the boy crashing to the ground and he quickly wrapped his legs around the boy's neck, intending to snap it. Bellamy's fist to his jaw loosened his grip and a second fist to his left eye had him blacking out again.

* * *

Lincoln jerked awake and found himself standing with his arms and legs outstretched, being chained up inside the metal ship the Sky People arrived in. He shook off one of them and kicked out at two more who were trying to restrain his feet.

"Tie him tighter." Bellamy commanded the four men surrounding Lincoln. "The last thing we need is this bastard getting free because you screwed up."

Movement near the far end of the room drew Lincoln's attention as his angel appeared from a hole in the floor. Her eyes were peeled on his and Lincoln felt the air sucked from his lungs as he discovered himself lost in the joy of seeing her one more time before they killed him. She took a step toward him.

"Octavia, get out of here," Bellamy said.

 _Okteivia_. His angel had a name. It whispered through his head like the perfumed scent of flowers upon a breeze.

"I told you he was protecting me." She defended him to her brother. "You didn't have to do this." Lincoln focused his attention on her, memorizing her features and her expressions. It dulled the pain of his broken ribs and his aching head. It dulled the guilt that he was the cause of all of this.

"This isn't about you. I'm doing this for all of us."

"You did that for all of us?" She looked toward him and Lincoln felt himself leaning forward, caught in her stare.

"No, I did that for Finn and Jasper and Diggs and John and Roma," Bellamy replied.

"It wasn't even him."

"You don't know that!" Bellamy shouted at her, causing Lincoln's fists to tighten defensively and sending his chains rattling. "We need to know what we're up against. How many there are and why they're killing us. And he's going to tell us right now."

Bellamy took a step toward Lincoln as Octavia grabbed his arm. "No, Bellamy, please."

Bellamy shook her off. "Miller, get her out of here."

"I was there! I--." Miller and another man stepped forward and grabbed hold of Octavia's arms, dragging her back to the hole in the ground. As Octavia struggled against the two men, Lincoln struggled against his restraints. "Hey, get...get off me!" She pushed both men off and made her way to the hatch. She paused and turned back."I don't even think he speaks English." Lincoln craned his neck to see her face one last time. "He won't understand you."

"Oh, I think he will," Bellamy said menacingly as he looked directly into Lincoln's eyes, blocking his vision of his angel parting.

Then the blows came. Lincoln was a battle-hardened warrior and his father had hit harder than Bellamy. It was painful but he had been through worse. "What's your name?" Bellamy demanded. Lincoln tightened his muscles to lessen the damage of the punch. "Where's your camp?" Another jab. "How many of you are there?" Bellamy repeated the interrogation over and over again, alternating questions with blows. And still, Lincoln remained silent.

There was a sudden tremor through the ship, rocking Lincoln in his chains and knocking over a lantern. "What the hell was that? Are we under attack or not?" Bellamy asked of one of his men.

"Storm damage. We're okay."

Bellamy turned his attention back to Lincoln. "We're going to try this one more time. What's your name? Where's your camp? How many of you are there?" Bellamy asked in rapid fire. Lincoln braced himself, ready for the pummeling to come.

"Hey," the one called Miller interrupted his interrogation. "Check it out." Bellamy strode over to Miller's side. "What is all this stuff?" Miller was holding Lincoln's field kit containing various poisons, antidotes, and tinctures.

"Who the hell knows with these people," Bellamy said as he pulled open Lincoln's pack and took out his journal.

Lincoln fought against the ropes that bound him, not wanting Bellamy to discover his drawings of Octavia.

"I think we found something he doesn't want us to see, Miller." Bellamy opened his journal and began thumbing through the pages. "These aren't bad."

Lincoln inhaled as Bellamy flipped closer to a picture of Octavia bookmarked by a feather, knowing when Bellamy turned to look at him that he had found it. Lincoln rolled his shoulders back and pushed out his chest as he stared unapologetic at Bellamy.

Bellamy frowned in response and turned back to the journal. He found another bookmarked sketch. "It's our camp. I'm guessing if I count all those marks, it will add up to 102. 10 are crossed out." Bellamy slammed Lincoln's journal closed. "That's how many people we've lost." He strode over to Lincoln with the journal in his hand. "They've been watching us ever since we got here."

Lincoln stared straight ahead, unblinking. Bellamy returned to looking through Lincoln's journal, stopping every now and again on pictures of Reapers and Mountain Men and asking what they were. Lincoln gave no response each time but the fight seemed to have left Bellamy because he no longer followed it up with a beating.

* * *

Lincoln faded in and out of consciousness. His head throbbed from where his angel had bashed it in with a rock and he hadn't slept properly in days. Every movement and sound yanked him to attention again. This time, it was the door in the floor creaking open. It was the blonde leader, their healer, Clarke. One of Bellamy's men, Miller, stood in front of her, blocking her access. "Get the hell out of my way."

"It's okay. Let her through," Bellamy said.

Clarke walked up to Lincoln, her eyes roving across the blood and cuts covering his face. "Well, if he didn't hate us before, he does now." She sneered at Bellamy.

"Who cares?" Bellamy grabbed Clarke's arm and dragged her away to the other side of the room. It didn't matter because Lincoln could still hear them. "How's Finn?"

"Alive. His people will care. How long until they figure out where he is? And what happens when they do? I mean, when they come looking for him? They will, Bellamy."

Lincoln wasn't due to report back to Anya for another week. If she was satisfied with the lives Caliban, Vik, and Tomac took and as long as the Sky People didn’t bomb any more villages, Anya wouldn't be expecting him until then. Bellamy and Clarke continued their discussion about how Lincoln's people might retaliate as the ship groaned and creaked under the onslaught of the storm raging outside.

"Okay, in case you missed it...." Bellamy opened Lincoln's journal, showing Clarke the pages within. "His people are already killing us. How many more of _our_ people need to die until you realize we're fighting a war."

Clarke closed the journal. "Look, we're not soldiers, Bellamy. Look at him. We can't win."

"You're right. If we don't fight."

"Clarke, he's seizing!" Raven, the one who came down in her own ship, called up from below. Lincoln knew that meant the poison must be coursing through the boy's veins. Finn, they called him.

Clarke rushed down the ladder through the hole in the floor. Bellamy closed the door behind her and turned his attention back to Lincoln with anger in his eyes. Lincoln steeled himself for the oncoming blows as the torture resumed.


	9. He Won't Let Me Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Octavia saves Lincoln's (and Finn's) life

 

* * *

Either only a few minutes had passed or he had lost consciousness again. There was a pounding on the hatch door as Clarke demanded to be let back up. Bellamy motioned for Miller to let her in and Clarke shoved her way past him, carrying the dagger Lincoln had stabbed Finn with. She shoved the dagger into Lincoln's face. "What's on this?"

"What are you talking about?" Bellamy asked.

"He poisoned the blade," Clarke spat out as her voice rose in panic. "All this time, you knew Finn was going to die, no matter what we did. What is it?" She screamed. "Is there an antidote?"

"Clarke, he doesn't understand you." Octavia spoke up from behind. Lincoln's guilt kept his eyes averted from her this time. Clarke was right; he had known Finn would die anyway and he wasn't going to give them the antidote.

"Vials," Bellamy said as he turned to retrieve Lincoln's field kit.

Clarke threw down the blade as she followed after Bellamy and began searching through the metal tin that held Lincoln's vials. "You'd have to be stupid to have a poison around this long without an antidote." Lincoln wasn't stupid and he also didn't label his vials. "Which one?" Clarke asked in frustration.

"Answer the question!" Bellamy demanded.

"Show us. Please." Octavia's request landed more effectively on Lincoln than any of Bellamy's punches but still, he remained silent.

"Which one?" Clarke was now crying. "Our friend is dying down there and you can stop that." Lincoln was unmoved. Her friend was his enemy. Her friend had tried to kill him in his own cave.

Bellamy brushed his nose with his thumb. "I'll get him to talk." He pulled back his arm to take another swing at Lincoln but Octavia latched onto it from behind.

"Bellamy, no."

Bellamy faced his sister. "Look, he wants Finn to die. Why can't you see that?" He then turned to Clarke, asking her, "do you want him to live or not?"

"Clarke, you even said it yourself." Octavia pleaded with her. "This is not who we are!" His angel was so passionate, so fiery and spirited. "He was protecting me. He saved my life!" Lincoln had never had anyone defend him before, stand up for him.

"We're talking about Finn's life!" Bellamy shouted at Octavia.

Clarke stared at Lincoln, unblinking. "Do it."

"No," his angel whispered in despair. She rushed up to him. "Just tell us!" She cried as Miller and the other kid dragged her away. His angel fought them off easily, stepping to the back of the room so they wouldn't force her to leave instead.

Bellamy walked over to Lincoln with a knife and began to cut away his shirt. "You're gonna show us the antidote or you're gonna wish you had." Bellamy crossed back over in front of Lincoln, stopping to look to Clarke for the command. Clarke nodded.

"Bellamy, no. Please." His angel begged of her brother. Bellamy ignored her as he grasped the end of a rope and swung it at Lincoln's middle. There was a weighted object on the end and Lincoln grunted in pain as it made contact.  It took a moment for him to recover this time. Clarke, the healer, didn't look like she could stomach watching. The belt came at him again.

Clarke ran up with his tin of vials and began spreading them across the floor in front of Lincoln. "Please. Which one's the antidote?"

"Just tell them." His angel, still watching. For her, he would have told them anything but his loyalty lay with his people and he would not betray them for the boy dying downstairs.

Bellamy walked up to Clarke, putting his hand on her shoulder. "Clarke," he whispered her name. Clarke backed away from Lincoln and Bellamy swung the belt again and again. The blows continued on and even though each one was weaker than the last as Bellamy grew fatigued, Lincoln found it harder and harder to drown out the pain. It was Octavia's face that drew him back to his feet after each blow.

"Please stop!" Octavia once again implored Bellamy. He backed away from Lincoln, breathing heavy and bent over with his hands upon his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

Clarke rushed up to kneel before Lincoln and to ask for the antidote again. "Which one? Which one is it? If you tell us, they'll stop." He swayed in response. "Please tell us which is the antidote and they'll stop this."

Octavia leaned forward with hope in her eyes that Lincoln would finally answer. He staggered toward her, half-conscious and barely able to see through the blood and swelling of his face. She had become his talisman in the darkness, his focal point to pull him back up from the depths of his torment.

In annoyance, Bellamy threw down the belt he had been using as a whip. He picked up an object off a box. "If that doesn't work, maybe this will." He held up his hand, revealing a metal spike. "Clarke, you don't have to be here for this."

"I'm not leaving until I get that antidote," Clarke replied.

Bellamy strode over to Lincoln and grasped his right hand. "Last chance."

Lincoln steadied himself, his eyes centered on the spike, knowing what was coming. He had been shot by plenty of arrows; he could handle this. He looked up, beyond the spike to his angel floating in the background, like a vision from the stars.

Agonizing pain rocketed from his hand through his arm, shaking his entire body to the core. His muscles clenched up, his teeth holding back the whimpers that tried to escape. His eyes focused on Octavia, his salvation. She covered her own eyes and turned away, her arm wrapping protectively around herself as she paced. He tried to get his breathing regulated again even as his hand trembled involuntarily.

"What's taking so long?" Raven climbed into the room. "He stopped breathing."

"What?" Clarke started to leave.

Raven halted her. "He started again, but next time, he might not."

"He won't tell us anything," Clarke said.

Raven looked around the room. "Wanna bet?" She charged over to a corner where she ripped out two blue ropes from the wall. A spark of fire distracted Lincoln from the throbbing hole of his mangled hand and into alertness.

"What are you doing?" Bellamy asked.

"Showing him something new," Raven replied as she brought the two pieces of rope together causing another burst of fire.

Lincoln flinched in response. He had never seen anything like this before. Raven took a step closer to him, sparking the ropes together once more. Lincoln tried to twist away but she thrust them against his chest and--

Fire through his veins. So hot, then ice. His heart felt as if it would explode as his muscles contracted and his jaw locked. "Aah!"

"Which one is it?" Raven demanded.

Lincoln breathlessly looked to Octavia, unable to gather his wits about him in time. He had never felt anything so excruciating in his life.

"Come on!" Raven yelled as she brought the ropes to Lincoln's chest again.

Searing pain. Muscle spasms. Burning from the inside. _Octavia!_ His mind cried out to her in anguish.

"He's all I have." Raven was crying now as she brought the ropes of fire up to Lincoln again.

"Enough!" Octavia screamed.

"He's letting Finn die!" Raven shouted back at Octavia.

Octavia lifted Lincoln's poisoned blade in her hand and Lincoln was too weakened to do anything but helplessly watch as she pressed it to her own forearm and sliced it open.

"Octavia, no!" Bellamy was too late to stop her.

Octavia looked up into Lincoln's eyes. "He won't let me die," she said with certainty, trusting him with her life.

Lincoln felt his entire world spin to a halt, his senses momentarily numb as his heart clenched at her words. She should have been scared of him, wishing him dead yet she had recognized a truth he hadn't even admitted to himself. He couldn't let her die and it terrified him more than her brother’s threats and the physical violence.

She fell to her knees before the vials in front of him, using the dagger to point at them. "This one?" She asked earnestly, moving from one vial to the next. “Good?”

Her trust in him was undeniable and he wanted to prove her justified. Lincoln nodded his head to the vial on his far left and she scooped it up, holding it in front of him to see as the blood from her cut ran in rivulets down her arm. He nodded slowly. Instead of taking the antidote for herself, she immediately passed it off to Clarke who raced out of the room with Raven to go save Finn. As she wrapped remnants of his shirt around her wound, Lincoln remained transfixed by her, not able to comprehend the awakening in his soul at what his angel had just done for him.

Bellamy approached her and placed his hands on her shoulders but Octavia shoved him off. "Don't touch me," she said in disgust before turning to look back at Lincoln with tears in her eyes. He loved her. It wasn't a question; it was an answer.

* * *

Once the Sky People had the antidote, they had cleared out of the room, leaving only a napping Miller to guard Lincoln. It left Lincoln with little else to do but try to ignore the pain stemming from every punch, every welt, every bruise, every burn, every stab throughout his battered body.

Clarke had returned, this time to heal instead of torture. As she pulled the spike from the palm of his hand, the renewed sharpness of the pain reminded him that it was on her command Bellamy had placed it there.

Octavia, his angel, entered the room again. All that pain faded away when he saw her. She was a balm for his battered body and soul, a necessity for his survival like the air he breathed through the rattling of his cracked ribs.

Clarke attempted to clean the hole in his hand. Even though it pained him, Lincoln folded his fingers over his palm and tried to wrest his hand from her grasp. "Hey, look, I need to clean this." Clarke said to him but he didn't want her touching him.

Octavia walked over to Clarke’s side and held out her hand. Lincoln was pleased to see that her wound had been tended and bandaged. "Here, let me try." Clarke passed her the rag and moved aside.

His angel stepped close to him, her eyes seeking out his, looking for permission. He slowly unfurled his fingers for her and she placed the cool, wet rag into his palm while she tenderly cupped the back of his hand. The sparks flowing through him this time had nothing to do with Raven’s fire ropes. Her touch was more than he dreamed and he dared not breathe for fear of dislodging her fingertips from his skin.

"I never wanted him to get hurt, Octavia. You have to know that." Clarke said, trying to assuage her guilt. "I just wanted to save Finn."

Octavia didn't look at Clarke as she continued to delicately clean his wound. "For the record, you didn't save Finn. That was me. But whatever you want to tell yourself to feel better." Lincoln respected her all the more for standing up to Clarke, her leader, and reminding her that Finn was alive because of Octavia’s doing and no one else’s. As Clarke left the room, Octavia dipped the rag into the bucket to rinse it before bringing it to his hand again.

"I'm so sorry." She looked up at him with such sadness in her eyes, her hand a gentle caress upon his. "You saved my life and look at the thanks you get." Everything around them faded and disappeared into the background as she peered deep into Lincoln’s soul. "I never wanted any of this to happen to you."

Her voice was like a lullaby, soothing his wounds after everything he had been through. He didn't deserve the kindness she bestowed upon him; he had been keeping from her this whole time that he spoke English. And yet he was grateful. His thumb closed over the top of her hand, wanting to feel that intimate connection with her again. "Thank you." The words stumbled out of his lips, hoarse and broken as he repeated what she had once said to him, trusting her as she had trusted him.

Her eyes widened ever so slightly and her lips parted in silent surprise.

"Hey." Miller had awakened from his nap. "He just say something?"

"No." Octavia lied as she returned to cleaning Lincoln's wound.

"You know your brother doesn't want you up here, Octavia. Let's go."

Octavia nodded in response before returning the rag back to the bucket and heading for the ladder. As Lincoln watched her part, he felt a piece of him leaving with her. He closed his eyes momentarily, committing the last image of her face to his memory.


	10. It's Not Safe for Us to Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lincoln and Octavia talk

 

* * *

For two days, Lincoln was tied up in the metal ship. The torture had stopped once the Sky People received the antidote. He slept standing up and they only loosened his restraints twice a day for necessity. He missed his angel. He hadn't even seen her since the first day when he spoke to her. He was still in awe of her determination and strength. She had saved his life and had kept his secret from her own brother. _Octavia_. Just thinking her name relaxed his weary mind. At this point, his body's natural defense mechanisms had kicked in and he hovered on a plane between euphoria and pain.

He was alone in the room. Well, mostly. Bellamy was seated across from him in a position he had taken up more often than not. Sometimes he would flip through Lincoln's journal, sometimes he would ask Lincoln questions without expecting an answer, sometimes he would just sit and stare at Lincoln with a pensive look on his face, as he was doing now. Miller, Lincoln's other frequent visitor, returned from down below, distracting Bellamy from his thoughts.

"Did you talk to the Ark?" Bellamy asked.

Miller came to a stand in front of Lincoln. "I told Diggs' mom the news, John's dad. I'm supposed to talk to Roma's parents later." Miller listed the names of the Sky People Lincoln’s clan had slain in retaliation for burning down one of their villages.

"Thanks for doing that," Bellamy said softly. "I owe you."

With his hands on his hips, Miller turned to glare at Lincoln. "Telling all these parents that their kids were murdered by Grounders, I just wish I could say we're getting some justice." Lincoln could say the same. His people were still owed two deaths.

"We're not killing him," Bellamy said, exhaustion in his voice.

Miller inhaled, biting back his anger. He reached over and scooped up a handful of berries they had tried feeding to Lincoln earlier. He leaned in close to Lincoln's face. "You were a lot scarier when you had that face-paint on." Miller slapped the berries onto Lincoln's cheek and smeared them in.

Lincoln headbutted him, knocking Miller flat on his back.

As Miller clambered to his feet, Bellamy looked curiously at Lincoln but did not retaliate. Lincoln wasn't able to figure out this leader, his angel's brother, as Bellamy ordered Miller to leave him alone. Lincoln closed his eyes again and resumed his nap, dreaming of his angel's touch.

* * *

"Hey, Miller! Roma's parents are waiting for you on the radio." The voice from down below startled Lincoln to awareness. Miller got up from where he had decided to take his own nap and climbed down the hatch, closing it behind him.

Lincoln sighed and released a small groan of pain as he allowed himself to relax for a moment in the empty room. His muscles screamed from being held for so long in such an uncomfortable position while his bones cracked and creaked in stiffness. The blonde one, Clarke, had come in twice a day to treat the more severe wounds left behind from their torture of him and he begrudgingly admitted to himself that he was healing much faster than usual.

The hatch opened again and Lincoln didn't bother opening his eyes, expecting Miller had returned.

"Hi." Lincoln jerked his head up at the sound of _her_ voice, his heart already beating faster just being in the same room with her. He never thought he would see his angel again and yet, she was here. "We don't have a lot of time." She closed the hatch and walked over in front of him, her eyes checking his face for new injuries beneath the berry juice. "I brought you some water." She uncorked a flask and brought it to his lips. "Here." He drank greedily from it. Bellamy had known exactly how much water to provide for Lincoln to keep him barely alive and he was parched.

She pulled the flask away. "It's good, right?" She reached up to wipe the water from his chin with her sleeve and Lincoln couldn't resist brushing the barest of kisses against the back of her hand, so subtle he didn't think she would notice. "Sorry I haven't seen you since everything happened." She brought the flask back up to his lips. His mind overflowed at seeing her, hearing her, touching her again when he thought he would be dead by now.

"My brother's been keeping me away. He's a total dick, which you probably already figured out," she said as she struggled to re-cork the flask.

He held back a laugh but allowed himself the barest of smiles.

"You do understand me." Her inquisitive eyes penetrated his warrior facade and she smirked at him. "I knew it." She walked over and set the flask down on a crate. "Well, at least let me get you cleaned up quick," she said as she took off her jacket. She reached into the bucket of clean water and wrung out a rag before stepping under his arm and back in front of him.

Lincoln's eyes followed his angel's every move, unable to tear his gaze from her as she dabbed at the dirt and bruising along his stomach. His body swayed toward her, mesmerized by her, feeling honored to inhale the same air she breathed. She paused at the tattoos that ran down his side, her fingers floating so close he felt the caress all the same as if she touched him.

"This is all my fault because I freaked out so bad when you locked me up in that cave."

 _No_ , Lincoln thought, _you were right to freak out_. He regretted that one act more than anything else. He should have found another way of making her stay safe in his cave and his rashness would plague him until her brother finally killed him.

She began wiping at the dried and crusted blood on his face. "You'd totally understand why if you knew how I grew up." Her fingers lifted up his chin so she could better clean his face and the last of his resolve melted at her touch.

"My name is Lincoln," he told her through cracked and broken lips.

"Lincoln." It was like a song on her tongue. "I'm Octavia."

Lincoln glanced away, suddenly saddened at knowing it was all to be short-lived once Bellamy decided what to do with him.

She moved into his line of sight, not allowing him to escape her. "Well, is that it? Is that all you're gonna say?"

"It's not safe for us to talk." His voice was rough from disuse.

"Well, if we shouldn't talk, then why did you tell me your name?" There was a challenge in her tone, daring him to tell her the truth.

So he did. "I want you to remember me after I'm dead."

"You're not gonna die," she whispered solemnly. "Don't say that."

"Octavia," he said her name aloud for the first time, a whispered prayer upon his breath. "This only ends one way."

Tears threatened to spill from her eyes as she pressed closer to him. "Just talk to them. Tell them you're not the enemy."

"I am," he said honestly.

The hatch opened and Octavia turned away, hastily wiping away the tears that had escaped.

Miller was halfway through the hatch when he saw her. "Octavia, get the hell out now."

"Bellamy is not even here.” She protested.

Miller pushed into Lincoln's face, wagging his finger at him."Get out, or he gets the beating I've been aching to give him."

He was close enough for Lincoln to headbutt him again but Octavia intervened, shoving Miller away from Lincoln. "Okay, okay, I get it. I get it. I'm gone." Octavia grabbed her jacket and glared at Miller one last time before leaving.


	11. They'll Know You Helped Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Octavia frees Lincoln

* * *

The creaking open of the hatch jostled Lincoln from his stupor.

"Get out," Miller said as Octavia popped her head through the hole in the floor.

"Relax." She smiled innocently, stopping halfway up the ladder. "I thought you might be hungry." She tossed Miller a packet. "A peace offering." Lincoln's eyes narrowed as he watched Miller catch it. "I shouldn't have come up here alone earlier. It was stupid and dangerous and...." She paused, sparing Lincoln a pitying glance. "He's not worth it. I won't tell Bellamy if you won't." That innocent smile was back.

 _What was his clever, little angel up to?_ Lincoln wondered as she climbed back down the ladder and closed the hatch behind her.

Miller shrugged to himself and pried open the package, pouring out a handful of nuts and dried berries. He tossed his head back and dribbled some into his mouth. "Want some?" He said mockingly with his mouth full.

Lincoln turned his head away and closed his eyes as he started on another sketch of Octavia in the gallery in his mind.

* * *

"But that doesn't make any sense!" Miller's voice startled Lincoln out of his reverie. He cracked his swollen eye open to see what was the cause of the latest disruption.

Miller stared in confusion down through the open hatch in the floor at something below. "Well, I'm just going to have to fix it again, aren't I?" Miller said in exasperation as he clambered down the ladder and closed the hatch behind him.

A few minutes passed before the hatch re-opened. It was his angel again. She hurried over to him and dropped an armful of clothing on the floor. "Don't move," she said as she cut away the ropes binding his left hand.

"Uh! Aah." As his hand dropped free, the blood rushed to it, sending it tingling and cramping. He flexed his fingers as the feeling came back.  

She sank to her knees before him and began working on untying his legs. "We need to go. Now," she said. She finished with his legs and moved over to the clothes on the floor to pull out a hoodie.

Lincoln freed his other hand, the one with the hole through it, panting as it throbbed and prickled. "Why are you doing this?" He collapsed onto his knees as his legs temporarily gave out without the support of the ropes.

"Just get dressed," she said, as she slid his arm through the sleeve of the hoodie.

"They'll know you helped me," he replied as she pulled the jacket over his other arm. "Aah!" He cried out, his arm muscles objecting at the movement.

She moved behind him, straightening out the jacket. "You said it: you stay here, you'll die." She picked up a thicker jacket from the pile of clothing. "I'm not gonna let that happen," she said with determination.

He shook his head. He hadn't saved her life for her to throw it away again on him. "I'm not gonna put you in danger." He didn’t want to imagine what her people might do to her for this.

She pulled the other jacket over his arms. "You need to do this now."

"Okay." He was too weak to argue and she had proven him wrong enough times that he no longer doubted her but he still gave one final objection. "Even in these clothes, I'll be seen."

"People are seeing plenty of things right now." She moved busily around him as she helped him finish getting dressed and his heart fluttered at the intimacy.

He tried to stand. "Oh!"

She dipped beneath his right arm, using herself as a crutch for him. "Up you get."

"Uh!" Lincoln moaned as his legs shook and he staggered unevenly.

"Okay, let's go." She carefully guided him to the hatch.

"What'd you do?" he asked her.

"Set out some of our winter rations a little early." She stopped and turned him to face her. "Here." Her fingers fiddled with the zipper on his jacket.

"Jobi nuts," he said in admiration as she zipped up his jacket. "The food you gave my guard. They go bad, they cause visions, but it wears off." He was reminded of his broken ribs with every breath he spoke.

"Just try to get as far away as you can, okay?" She straightened out the lapels of his jacket as he nodded. "And try not to get yourself killed."

He nodded again, attempting to think about anything else besides how she had saved him once again. Anything else besides how close her face was to his, how he could taste the sweetness of berries upon her breath. He turned away to leave but froze, knowing he would never see her again, and was unable to move forward without one last look at his angel. He swallowed tightly, already lost in her allure.

One last look wasn't enough. He reached out, cupping her cheek in his left hand as his lips fell upon hers and he drank thirstily from her, seeking sustenance for his embattled and weary soul. Her hand rose up ever so hesitantly as he deepened his onslaught, drowning in her essence. There was the slightest pressure upon his wrist and she softly turned her head away from his, breaking the kiss.

Lincoln slid his hand slowly away from her cheek, tendrils of her hair catching between his fingertips, not wanting to ever let go. He searched her face, fearful he had scared her with his passion. Instead, he saw his desire reflected back to him in the dark depths of her eyes and he inhaled sharply, the protest from his ribs bringing clarity. He turned away and abruptly left before he stole more than a kiss from her.


	12. You're No Longer Safe Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nyko helps Lincoln with his injuries

 

* * *

Everything had happened so quick. One minute, he was tied up, contemplating his final hours and then the next, he was creeping outside the metal ship past Sky People who were wandering about in a daze from hallucinogenic nuts. Lincoln felt his heart swell to bursting; she had drugged her entire village for him.

Except Finn, the boy he stabbed. Lincoln stopped in his tracks, not wanting to have to kill him a second time. He rose up threateningly. But Finn simply nodded toward a gap in the wall around the camp. Lincoln didn't waste any time to question it and took off into the dark forest beyond.

He quickly made his way back to his cave. Now that the Sky People knew where he lived, he wouldn't be able to stay there any longer. He grabbed his medicine pouch first and dug through the various plants and herbs until he found a gnarled brown root. He sliced off a strip and began chewing on it, waiting for the analgesic properties to kick in.

He carefully moved around his cave, collecting various items to take with him. He paused with a frown as he saw the pile of chains against the far wall of his cave...where he had tied up his angel. He turned away and reached for a canteen, filling it with water from the reserve he kept. It reminded him how dehydrated he still was and he brought it to his lips. He paused. He could still taste the sweetness of his angel's kiss and he didn't want to wash it away just yet.

A scraping sound outside reached his ears. Lincoln thought he had more time to get away, but he was too late; they were already here to recapture or kill him. He snatched up a knife as he moved into the shadows in order to get the advantage on whoever was now entering his cave. He was in too poor of shape to put up much of a fight but he was a warrior and they were untried babies, playing at war games.

"Lincoln?"

The tension in Lincoln's shoulders dissolved as he recognized Nyko's voice, his friend and the healer of his village. He stepped out of the shadows to greet him.

"I was on my way back to _Tondisi_ and thought I might check on you, my friend." Nyko grasped Lincoln's forearm in greeting and dragged him into a hug, squeezing a groan of pain out from Lincoln. He pulled away and inspected Lincoln. "What the hell happened to you, Brother?" Nyko asked, taken aback by the damage done to Lincoln's face.

Lincoln whimpered as he sat down gingerly in a chair, every breath a constant reminder of what happened. "It's nothing." He waved Nyko away but it was his bandaged hand and the movement caused more pain. He grimaced.

Nyko snorted. "Let me take a look at you. Stand up." Nyko helped Lincoln back to his feet and began cataloging his injuries. "Black eye, broken nose, cracked jaw, probable concussion." Nyko puttered around Lincoln, removing his top jacket. "New clothes?" Nyko asked facetiously.

Lincoln grunted in response.

"Let's get this jacket unzipped and see what's under there," Nyko whistled as he revealed Lincoln's chest and stomach, a discolored patchwork of broken ribs and belt marks. "Sky People?"

Lincoln gave a short nod.

"How many did you have to kill?" Nyko asked him. _Have to_ , not _get to_ , unlike Caliban and Vik. Nyko understood Lincoln perhaps better than anyone else.

"None." Lincoln winced as Nyko slapped a cold, goopy substance onto the gash in his side. "One of them helped me escape." He held his breath, uncertain how Nyko would react.

Nyko simply hummed once as he poured a harsh smelling liquid onto a rag and pressed it against the laceration on Lincoln's forehead. Lincoln hissed through his teeth as it burned.

Nyko pushed Lincoln back down into his chair. "Is she pretty?"

"What?" Lincoln asked, startled.

"The one who saved you." Nyko sat down across from Lincoln and placed a bowl on the table between them. He reached for Lincoln's right hand and began unwrapping the bandage. "I'm assuming it was a she and she was pretty."

Lincoln smiled as he thought of her beauty. "She's strong and brave and clever,” he said in awe.

Nyko sucked in his breath when he saw the damage done to Lincoln's hand. "Was she worth it?"

"Yes."

"You know you're no longer safe here, my brother." Nyko dipped Lincoln's hand into the bowl of liquid and Lincoln felt immediate relief. "Soak it a bit longer and wrap it back up with this when you're done." Nyko pulled out a pouch and tossed it on the table as he stood up.

Lincoln nodded. The root he had been chewing on finally kicked in and he leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

* * *

"Lincoln."

Nyko snapped his fingers in front of Lincoln's face. Lincoln awoke with a start, forgetting for a moment he was no longer chained up.

"I'm leaving now." Nyko tossed a bag down next to Lincoln. "I'd invite you to return with me but I know you won't." He gestured to the bag. "I packed some food in there for you. I suggest you find a place to hole up for the night, eat something, get some sleep. That's what you need right now."

Lincoln nodded as he struggled to stand. Nyko waved him to sit back down. "I'll miss you, my brother." He started to leave but paused, turning back once more. "It's not my secret to tell."

Lincoln nodded again, this time in appreciation. Nyko was letting him know he wouldn't inform Indra about whatever had happened between Lincoln and the Sky People.

He sighed, taking another moment's rest before getting to his feet. He re-wrapped his hand and dressed carefully, leaving behind the Sky People clothing. He picked up his pack and left his cave but he didn't walk far. She was still out there, so close. He couldn't leave her behind.

He knew of all the cubbyholes and hideaways in the area; they came in handy when seeking shelter from the Mountain's boiling fog. He chose to set up camp nearby in a small overgrown cave. As Lincoln finally closed his eyes for the night, his fingertips rose to his lips, remembering the taste of heaven.


	13. Locked Up One Way or Another

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Octavia visits Lincoln for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some angst and a bit of fluff, if I’m using the terminology correctly. I didn’t realize until I started writing it that they still had a few issues to work out before they got down to business.

 

* * *

He was right to abandon his cave. The Sky People came the next morning, this time armed with more than homemade spears and knives. They carried guns like the Mountain Men. Lincoln watched warily from his perch high up in a tree as four of them entered his cave and two remained behind to keep guard. It didn't take long for them to discover he was no longer there and they left again.

It wasn't till later in the afternoon when he spotted another Sky Person, this time a familiar and welcome figure, approaching his cave. He waited until she was almost directly underneath him before he dropped down in front of her.

She jumped in surprise, stumbling back a step. Lincoln instinctively reached out and caught her elbow to keep her from falling. And then he got lost in his angel's eyes again.

"Hi," she said softly, breaking the spell.

Lincoln hastily released her, clearing his throat. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay," she said. "I was looking for you anyway."

She was staring up at him with such wonder in her eyes that it took every bit of willpower for Lincoln to remain still when all he wanted to do was kiss her again.

When he didn't speak, she continued on. "You know, if you want, your cave is safe to return to." She paused, again waiting for him to say something. "Bellamy, that's my brother, has decided he has more important things to focus on than getting you back."

"The guns." He guessed.

She nodded. "I also threatened him and made him promise me he'd leave you alone."

He was no longer surprised at her rebellious spirit but he couldn’t help but wonder what she might have possibly said to Bellamy that would dissuade him from going after Lincoln. "Do you want to return to my cave?" he asked. He was was so anxious around her, uncertain of her intentions yet also wanting to please her.

She nodded and he pointed in the direction of it, gesturing for her to proceed first. She brushed past him and he closed his eyes, leaning forward and inhaling, trying to capture her scent. As she walked ahead of him, he trailed behind her and admired her natural ability to walk softly and move quietly...and the gentle sway of her hips.

"Why did you save me?" he asked her, trying to distract himself.

"Because I know what it's like to be blamed for something you didn't do." She paused to look back at him. "I wasn't going to let that happen to you, too."

They reached the entrance of his cave and Lincoln bent down, cautious of his ribs as he pushed back the grate. He climbed in first this time, not sure what to expect after her brother and his men had been through it. His cave was thrashed. Weapons and tools were knocked over and broken, his table and shelves were cleared of their contents, and his book cabinet had been emptied of all the books.

"Please excuse the mess,” he said as he tried to lighten the mood. He was on edge being so close to her.

Octavia sighed quietly behind him. "This is all my fault." She squeezed past him and straightened over a chair. "Let me help you at least."

Lincoln nodded. "If you want." Lincoln wasn't able to bend over to pick up any items off the floor so she did it for him as they worked on getting his cave back into some semblance of order.

"That's looking better now, isn't it?" she asked him with a grin as they finished sorting out his weapons collection. She turned, looking for the next project. Her eyes fell on the chains he had used on her, sitting there in the corner, mocking him and his attempt at happiness. Her smile crumbled.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, unable to put into words his shame at what he must have put her through.

"I was locked up one way or another all my life," she said in a hushed voice. "I made a promise to myself when I stepped foot on the ground for the first time that I was never going to be held prisoner again." She glanced back at him.

Lincoln swallowed back a lump in his throat as he realized just how deeply he must have traumatized her. He didn't say anything, not wanting to interrupt her, and steadily held her gaze, hoping she could read in his eyes the sorrow and remorse he felt.

"I don't ever want to feel that way again," she said and Lincoln ruefully turned his head away, accepting that he deserved whatever came next. "Teach me how to fight." She squared her chin and straightened her shoulders, daring for him to refuse her.

He didn't realize he had been holding his breath, expecting her to be angry with him for what he'd done. "Okay." He nodded. Anything she wanted, he would give her. She had a warrior's spirit and he would be honored to help turn her into a warrior.

She bent down and picked up the chains and carried them to the anteroom where he had fixed her knee and she tossed them through the door. "There. Now we can move on."

Lincoln normally didn't have much to say but this time, he was really left speechless. He wasn't too certain he had ever experienced forgiveness before; it was an almost-foreign concept to him, much like the woman wandering about his cave right now.

Octavia's fingers traced over one of the drawings he had painted on his walls to brighten the place up a bit. It was one he had been working on before the Sky People came and had thought he would never be able to finish. It was from a story the _Tondisi_ elders would tell the children about the bombs that ended the world. He wondered what she thought of it; he hoped she liked it. She moved on to his book cabinet and bent down in front of the pile of books that had been tossed out.

"Wow!" she exclaimed. "Real books! I only ever read about these on the Ark." She delicately picked one up and inspected it, giving it the respect and reverence it deserved. "They re-appropriated all the materials from the books until there was only one left." She placed the book back on the shelf before picking up another one. "I never got a chance to see it. _The Book of the Grounders_ it was called, I think."

"Grounders?" he asked. He had heard the Sky People use that term frequently.

Octavia looked over her shoulder at him before she continued re-shelving his books. "Yeah, that's what we call you guys. People who lived on the ground."

Lincoln snorted.

"Well, what do you call us then?"

"Sky People." He paused. "Invaders."

"Sky People." She smiled. "How about you?"

"Me?" Lincoln bowed his head toward her. " _Ai laik Linkon kom Trikru_ ," he said formally in an attempt to start over as if they were meeting for the first time.

" _Kom Trikru_ ," she repeated. "What does that mean?"

"It translates roughly to 'of the Woods Clan.'"

Octavia stood up from his cabinet and came before him to curtsy. "I am Octavia of the Sky People, Lincoln, and it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

She giggled endearingly and Lincoln started to laugh with her but it was quickly cut short by a stabbing pain on his left side as his cracked rib shifted. "Ugh!"

She hurried over to his side, concern etched in her brow. "How can I help?" she asked.

"I'm all right. Just stop making me laugh."

"Can I take a look?" Her hands reached for the edge of his shirt and Lincoln sucked his breath in tightly not from the pain in his chest but because his reaction to her nearness was much more physical than he expected.

"It's just a couple of broken ribs." Lincoln brushed her off, not wanting to tempt himself further.

"Please?" she asked serenely.

He had seen that look before, when she had tricked Miller into eating the jobi nuts. "I didn't realize you wanted me to take my shirt off so badly." He started to say it as a joke but somewhere halfway through, the look on her face had changed from one of innocence to one of hunger.

"Have I been too subtle?" Octavia asked.

Lincoln choked as his pants grew uncomfortably tight. He took a step back from her. She took a step forward. He gulped deeply, completely unprepared for the challenging woman before him. She was so close to him, holding him captive in her gaze. He could see each individual lash framing her eyes. She blinked slowly and he licked his lips in response. She carefully placed her hand on his chest. He reached up, covering it with his own hand, wondering if she could feel his heart thundering.

His head traitorously tilted closer to hers, their lips separated by a breath. Her other hand crept up around his neck and she pulled him the remaining distance, her mouth slanting over his. Her tongue traced the seam of his lips and he parted them for her, granting her entrance. Their tongues danced and dueled as they learned each other’s rhythms. She sucked gently on his tongue sending a punctuated jab of desire straight through his core. He groaned, pulling away from her and resting his forehead against hers as he tried to even out his breathing and get his lust for her back under control.

Her hand slid up from his chest, moving under his chin and lifting it up. She pressed her lips against his again encouragingly. His hand moved to the back of her head as his fingers tangled into her hair. He tugged gently. "Octavia." His voice held a warning. "We need to slow down a little, okay?" Oh, how he wished they didn't have to stop but his angel deserved so much more than he was able to give her right now in the shape he was in.

She pouted so he kissed the tip of her nose, trying to offer her some small comfort. She wrinkled it in response before stepping away from him, depriving him of her warmth and leaving him feeling as if the moon had just crossed over the sun.

"I should be getting back anyway,” she said as she turned away from him and strode toward the entrance of his cave. “Before Bellamy realizes I'm missing.”

Lincoln followed after her, worried he had offended her. His heart clenched, not wanting her to leave yet. "Will I see you again?" he asked hopefully.

She gave him a sidelong glance and a coy smile. "Tomorrow," she said and turned again to go. He caught her hand, tugging her gently around to face him. His eyes traveled across her face, learning it, committing it to memory. "What?" she asked when he didn't say anything.

"Nothing," he replied as his mouth creased into a smile. He brought his lips down to hers in a chaste kiss but pulled away before he lost himself once more in her response. "In case I don't see you again," he whispered.

She nodded in understanding, having already learned about unexpected loss. "Tomorrow," she promised again and left his cave, taking his heart with her.


	14. Taught Me How to Fight*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lincoln trains Octavia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My very first attempt at smut.

 

* * *

He crept up silently behind her, one arm snaking about her waist, the other across her chest and he squeezed her tight. She stiffened against him for a moment only to relax when she realized it was Lincoln.

"A warrior is always aware of his surroundings." He whispered the code against her ear and felt her shiver in response. He closed his eyes and pressed his nose against the soft skin behind her ear, inhaling deeply of her scent. He swallowed back the desire to taste her, releasing her instead and stepping away from her. "Hi," he said with a smile.

"Hi!" She grinned cheekily back at him. "Was that my first lesson?"

He nodded, still smiling, overjoyed that she had returned a second time. He wanted to kiss her but he was still nervous around her.

She seemed to be a little apprehensive as well as her eyes darted away from his and she glanced around his cave. "I see you've cleaned up some more."

"Yeah." He walked toward the center of the cave and she followed. "I wanted to make some space for us to train in."

"Thank you. It means a lot that you're willing to do this."

He nodded. "The better you are at fighting, the safer you'll be," he said with practicality.

"Bellamy taught me how to fight a little bit. Some things he learned when he was training to be in the guard, but it was all defensive maneuvers. He said I didn't need to know any of the other stuff."

Lincoln didn't quite understand her relationship with her brother who seemed more of a father to her than anything else. "I'll teach you everything." He promised. "Do you want to show me what you know?"

She nodded and took off her jacket before getting into position. "Okay, so he showed me this move." She began going through the steps Bellamy had taught her. She floated so gracefully and poetically, like a dancer around a bonfire. He cleared his throat.

She looked back at him and smiled impishly. "There's also this one." She moved into another position and began another dance, her lithe body twirling and spinning with ease. Lincoln tried to look at her objectively, like he would any other fellow warrior. She had a strong core and good balance. Her form was steady and fluid. Her breasts were tiny and pert and if he looked carefully enough, he thought he could see her nipples beading through the thin fabric of her tank top.

Lincoln gave his head a quick shake and refocused his attention on her movements. Her brother had trained her well and had given Lincoln a good base to work with. "Not bad," he said. "But what happens if someone actually comes at you?"

Octavia frowned and looked away. He had upset her somehow.

He walked over to her and took hold of her hand. "Octavia?"

She turned, looking down at their joined hands. "I was locked up in solitary for the last year of my life so I practiced alone. It eased the boredom."

He brought her hand up to his lips and brushed a kiss against her knuckles. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

A small sigh escaped her as she straightened her shoulders and lifted her head up. She gave him a weak smile. "I'd rather forget about it. That was a different lifetime ago. Down here, I have a chance to be free."

She was so straightforward about everything. He felt the corner of his mouth rising up as he realized he was falling in love with her a little bit more each day, something he never imagined possible.

"Why did you agree to train me?" she asked, changing the subject.

He shrugged. "Because you are strong. You will make a great warrior."

This seemed to please her as she smiled with satisfaction at his answer. "All right then, _Trikru_. Show me what you've got." She backed away from him and squatted down low, rocking from side-to-side, waiting for his attack.

He grinned, impressed she remember his clan’s name. Then he struck. He feinted left and moved right. He swept her leg out from under her as he caught her in his arms, knocking the air out of her lungs. "Omph!"

He smiled and winked at her before tipping her back up onto her feet. "Let’s try that again.”

The longer they trained into the afternoon, the more difficult he found it to keep his concentration. The way her hips swiveled was very distracting. And how she pursed her lips in concentration when learning a new move...or how her pants clung like a V at the juncture between her legs. Lincoln shifted uncomfortably as he looked for something to critique to tamper down his want for her.

"Since you're so small, you have speed to your advantage. Remember that. Just because someone might be stronger than you, it doesn't mean they're better. Again," he commanded.

She lunged at him, whirling away before he could snatch her. She was getting better, faster. She rotated and pivoted again and again as he continued to block her. He finally grabbed her from behind. She spun around in his arms, her fists raised up, ready to strike. She gave a gentle right-jab to his chin.

"Pow!" she said, jokingly.

He smiled back, not letting her go just yet. Each time, he held her a bit closer, a bit longer. This time was no different. Except this time, he wasn't able to let her go at all. This time, he didn't say, "again." This time, he gave into his desire and kissed her instead. She tasted even better than he remembered.

His tongue gently swirled across her lips and his thumbs brushed along her exposed midriff as he glided his hands along her back, bringing her closer until he felt her pebble-hard nipples poking him through the worn material of their shirts. He swept his tongue into her mouth, teasing and stroking. A small sigh escaped her and he captured it between his lips as he lifted her tighter against him.

"Lincoln." His name was a gasp upon her lips. He pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth and she tilted her head back as his knee nudged her legs apart. He kissed the dimple in her chin, nuzzling her head back further to give him access. His lips pressed down into the crook of her neck and he suckled gently. She arched her back as Lincoln's mouth reached her collarbone. Her hips shoved up against him, forcing a groan past his lips in a flutter against her skin. She sighed again, almost a whimper.

His hand skimmed up along her side as his thumb skipped across her rib cage before pausing at the under-swell of her breast. He buried his face into her neck and he flickered his tongue gently at her pulse as his thumb grazed over her shirt and across her nipple.

"Ahhhh...." The tiniest of moans escaped her lips and she tugged at his ears. He complied and lifted his head. Her eyes were hooded with desire as his thumb continued to move in lazy circles around her nipple. She cupped his cheek in her hand. "Don't stop." Her voice was husky and he felt himself respond as his hips pushed against her, his knee opening her legs wider.

Her breath caught in a hiccup and her hands dropped to his waist. She tugged on the edges of his shirt, peeling it up and over his head. She paused when she saw the fading bruises and healing cuts and burns, her lust dampening. He took hold of her chin. Her eyes were filled with tears. "Hey." It hurt him to see her cry so he kissed her again and again until she forgot.

He carried her over to the pile of furs he used as a bed and placed her down lovingly. He lay down beside her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close again, but that wasn't enough for her. She took his left hand and brought it under the edge of her shirt, sliding it up until he cupped her breast, her nipple poking hard into the palm of his hand. He moaned, his arousal pressing painfully against the top of her thigh.

She then took off her top and Lincoln almost came in his pants.

She clasped his ears, bringing his head down to her breast and he folded his mouth over it, his tongue lapping at her nipple. He moved one hand to the small of her back, bringing her hips against his and she wrapped her leg around him in response. He rocked his hips between hers, grinding himself against her. Soft mewls were coming in a steady stream from her as he moved over on top of her to lavish attention on her other breast. His left hand rose back up to continue twisting and rolling her nipple between his fingers. He tugged gently. Her hips slammed up and he groaned against her breast.

"Lincoln?" She whimpered his name. He flicked his tongue across her nipple while he pushed his hips forward, seeking the warmth emanating from her even through their layers of clothes. "Lincoln." This time, his name came out as a prayer. He scraped his teeth delicately across her nipple. She writhed underneath him. Her other leg wrapped about his waist and she used it as leverage to thrust her center against his hardness. 

Soft hums and moans spilled from her lips as he rammed against her, wishing away the clothing barrier between them. Her nails dug into his back as he gave one final tug with his teeth on her nipple before making his way back up to her mouth. He wanted her to come and he wanted to see it happen.

His tongue thrust into her mouth, matching the thrust of his hips, showing her what he wanted to do buried between her thighs. He devoured her whimpers and cries as she bucked against him, her body growing taut as the beginning waves of her orgasm overtook her. She tore her mouth away from his, thrashing her head from side to side as her legs locked tight around his waist and her body shook. Her eyes clouded over as he sent her back up into the heavens. This time, he did come in his pants.

She hid her face in his chest afterward. Lincoln tilted her chin up, worried he had done something wrong. "Hey, are you okay?" He asked sincerely.

"Yeah." Her cheeks reddened as she blushed. "It's just...I've never experienced that with anyone else before."

Lincoln grinned and pulled her into his chest again, hugging her tight. "I can teach you more about that too, if you want," he whispered into the top of her head.

She nodded against his chest and Lincoln's grin broke into a smile.


	15. It's Just a Scratch*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they both have a scratch to itch as Lincoln trains Octavia in other things....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 15 chapters in 15 days! Lots of smut.

 

 

 

* * *

His angel had returned for a third day in a row. Lincoln couldn't recall ever having been happier than he was in these moments he spent with her. Since yesterday, the lingering unease between them had disappeared, their mutual desire becoming a revelation for them to explore. Now, as he took her through the paces of turning her into a warrior, he didn't bother hiding his lecherous gaze or his grabby hands, taking simple pleasure in being able to flirt so freely with her.

Octavia was a quick learner, never making the same mistake twice. He was proud of her progress and would reward her with kisses and nuzzles and even sometimes tickles when things started to get too heated. She was relishing their newfound freedom together as well, and it was driving him mad with desire. Her buttocks brushed too often and too hard against the front of his pants for it to be anything other than purposeful.  And those steamy, seductive looks she shot him over her shoulder as she would lick her lips hungrily brought him to his knees faster than any attack she was learning. Octavia was quite a tease with him and he loved her all the more for it.

Her elbow connected with the still-healing gash in his left side and he grunted, stepping back swiftly from her, his hand rising to his side in pain.

"What happened?" She asked, concern etched in her face.

Lincoln was fairly certain he might have torn open the wound but it wasn't anything to worry about, not when she was here and they had so little time. "It's nothing. It's just a scratch."

"Here, let me take a look." She reached for the hem of his shirt, reminiscent of the first time she had returned to his cave and wanted to tend to his injuries. This time, however, he let her remove it. She clicked her tongue when she saw the gash. "It doesn't look like it's bleeding or anything. Do you have something to put on it?"

Lincoln nodded and strode over to the cupboard where he kept his medicine stockpiled. He removed a small jar and handed it to her. She unscrewed the lid and scooped out some of the poultice onto the tips of her fingers. Lincoln sucked in his breath in anticipation of her touch. She delicately skimmed her fingers along the cut, leaving behind a protective coating, and Lincoln wanted to weep at her tender care for him. He next passed her a bandage and she was once again gentle in her touch as she covered his wound.

When she was done, he brought her hand to his lips, kissing each of her fingers as he uncurled them one by one. He placed a final kiss in her palm before bringing it down and pressing it over his heart, telling her without words how he felt. She titled her head up to him, her dark tresses falling in a halo about her face, back-lit by the crackling fire. He reached his other hand up and gently brushed her hair back, tucking it behind her ear as he traced the rim of it with his fingertip, entranced by her openness and grace.

She raised her hands up to his shoulders, tugging him down to her level as she closed the distance between them. She slammed her lips against his, her eyes tightly closed as a small sob of yearning escaped from her. He was momentarily startled at her exuberance before he melted into her and wrapped his arms about her waist, lifting her closer. His own eyes fell closed at the intensity of her kiss. Her hand drifted up from his shoulder, her fingers teasing his earlobe as his mouth parted for her tongue. His brow furrowed at the strength of the emotions whipping through him. Her tongue delved into his mouth as he lifted her up, her legs wrapping around his waist and her arms wrapping around his neck.

He carried her over to his furs and laid her down upon them, pausing as he knelt over her in awe of her beauty. Her hands reached for her shirt and he covered them with his own, helping her drag it over her head. He paused, searching her face for guidance. She tilted her head back, her eyes falling half closed. She nodded to Lincoln as she reached up to him and pulled him close into her warm embrace. He worshiped her body, his hands and tongue dancing across her skin, tasting and teasing and stroking her. He buried his face in her neck, his left hand cupping her small breast. He rolled his thumb over her nipple, pinching it and twisting it as she whimpered. His other hand caught in her hair, tugging her head back to grant him access as he sucked and nibbled at the most sensitive areas of her neck.

She clutched at his hand on her breast and guided it down to the top of her pants. She hesitated. "Please, Lincoln?" she asked as she slid his fingers under the edge of her waistband. His lips descended on hers as his hand descended further down the front of her pants. He trailed his fingers along the crease of her thigh, moving closer to her center. His fingers toyed with her curls at the juncture of her hips as his tongue swirled around hers, teasing her until she pushed up against his hand in frustration. He ran his middle finger down her slit, her slickness coating it. He moaned as his cock twitched. She let out a whimper, her hand now wrapped around his wrist as she rubbed herself against him. He nudged the hood of her clit with the tip of his finger and she fell apart, her hips rocking as her eyes rolled back and her mouth fell open on a silent cry. He flicked it again, this time applying a little more pressure for a little longer, building up the pace each time he flicked.

Her breathing grew erratic as she struggled to keep her cries of pleasure from escaping. He wanted to make her lose control; he wanted to make her scream. He curled two fingers down to her entrance and pressed gently. She whimpered again as she arched her hips up and he eased the tip of his middle finger inside her, feeling her muscles squeeze and clench around it. The sweat dripped off Lincoln's brow onto her her breast and he grit his teeth, enraptured as he watched the drops trickle down the slight curve of her breast and around her nipple. He groaned as he pushed his middle finger deeper inside her, his other finger tracing her labia. She was lost now, on a rising crescendo of ecstasy, each sigh growing louder the closer she neared the peak. He pressed the base of his palm against her clit as he eased his second finger inside her and began to gently glide them in and out.

"Aaaah!" She moaned aloud.

"That's it, Angel," he whispered against her ear. "Come for me."

Her breath hitched on another cry, pitching higher as his palm ground against her clit. He pumped his fingers in and out of her moistness, the tempo increasing as he increased the friction of his palm against her center. It was his name on her lips as she finally screamed for him. Her walls clamped down around his fingers, milking them through her orgasm as her limbs shook and trembled and she sobbed, overcome.

He slowed the pace of his fingers, guiding her gently back up from her climax. She continued sighing and humming her contentment, her hands occasionally going to her nipples to squeeze or twist in uninhibited satisfaction.

He eased his fingers from inside her, feeling her muscles spasm around them, reluctant to release them, and his cock jumped in response. He withdrew his hand from down her pants and brought his glistening fingers up to his lips to finally taste his angel. It was his near undoing. His cock twitched again and he used his other hand to adjust the front of his trousers. He was so painfully aroused still; he should have allowed himself to come in his pants like yesterday.

She watched him closely with a predatory look in her eyes, unabashedly laying there topless on his furs as she absentmindedly continued playing with her nipples. He groaned and closed his eyes, searing the image into his brain for all eternity. His eyes shot open again when he felt her hands on his waistband.

Her fingers drummed across the front of his pants as she unfastened them. With each tap, his cock leapt. His mouth opened wordlessly as his member swelled to bursting. She flattened her hand on his belly and inched her fingers slowly down, her nails lightly scraping against his tender underbelly. He moaned.

"Show me how, Lincoln."

He took her hand in his and brought it to his arousal, folding her fingers around him. She squeezed. His breath hissed through his teeth. This wasn't going to take long. He wrapped his fingers around hers and steered her hand along his shaft, up and down and up again, teaching her the rhythm.

"Uh!" He grunted as she brought him closer to his own climax. Her fingers tightened around him as her thumb traced up the under-seam of his penis. The pad of her thumb brushed over the tip, rubbing the precum off. His hips involuntarily lurched. She did it again, this time adding in the squeeze. She was much too quick a learner. "Octavia." He warned her. She did it a third time. And then a fourth. "Octavia." This time, her name was a sob torn from his lips as he came in her hand.

His breathing was still coming out in jagged pants as he watched her, waiting for her reaction. She had a glint in her eye as she brought her palm up to her mouth. Her tongue flickered out and she tasted his cum. Lincoln closed his eyes as he felt the pull in his loins returning, already aroused again by her wanting to taste him as he had tasted her.

"Octavia." He groaned. "You're gonna be the death of me."

His angel grinned devilishly back at him.


	16. You're Not Going to Die*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Origin story behind their forehead touching.

 

  


 

 

* * *

 

 

They enjoyed cleaning each other off, exploring each other's bodies. She paid particularly close attention to his member, running the wet cloth along its length, delighted when it would twitch in response. Lincoln shifted his hips as he grinned at her through half-closed eyes, satiated enough that he was able to tolerate her newfound discovery of the male anatomy. Just barely. Even less tolerant after she got rid of the washcloth.

His hips shifted again as her fingers moved down to his testicles, cupping them and weighing them in her hand. His half-arousal became a little fuller, drawing her attention back to his shaft. Her thumb and forefinger encircled its base; her eyes drawn to the tip emerging from his foreskin. Her lips parted in wonder and the warm exhale of her breath caressed him as intimately as a kiss. Lincoln closed his eyes and blindly reached for her, unable to take any more as he tugged her away from her research. He rolled her onto her back, his hands drawing hers above her head but that just made things worse. The little vixen arched her back toward him, her nipples buoying in his lower peripheral, warning him of the danger too late. He was now snugly cushioned exactly where he longed to be, the only barrier between them was her threadbare pants.

He shoved his hips forward once, feeling her wetness soaked through the fabric as it rubbed against his bare cock. He groaned, collapsing on top of her and burying his face in her neck as he tried to find his restraint again.

"Lincoln," she whispered into his ear before nibbling on it. "I want you to make love to me."

Lincoln's hips lurched again but then her words had the opposite effect as he sobered up. He wanted to make love to her, too. So, so badly! Except it wouldn't be fair to Octavia, not until he told her. He nuzzled her neck and placed one last kiss there before he rolled off her and onto his back and quickly refastened his pants before things could escalate again.

"Lincoln?" She turned on her side, leaning over him, her fingertips tilting his face toward hers. There was a quiet fear in her eyes.

He pulled his head away, looking up toward the ceiling. "I have to leave in two days. I should have told you earlier but...." He paused, turning to look at her again. "I just wanted more time with you and that wasn't fair of me." He held his breath, his own fear now taking hold.

She nibbled on her lower lip, contemplating what he had said before asking, "Are you never coming back?"

He evaded her question and her eyes. "I need to check back in with my people before they think I'm dead." _Killed by the Sky People._

"But are you not planning on ever coming back?" There was desperation in her tone as she grabbed his chin in her hand and forced him to look at her again.

He took her hand from his chin and placed a kiss in the center of her palm before laying it over his heart. "As long as I live, I will always come back for you," he promised her.

Tears filled her eyes and she blinked rapidly, tiny droplets snagging on the ends of her lashes as she tried to hold them back. She understood what he meant; he wasn't sure if his people would let him live. "You're not going to die," she whispered feverishly. She tried to smile but it came out as a half-sob instead, punching him in the chest and ripping his heart out.

He sat up quickly and yanked her into his lap, his arms enveloping her, her naked breasts against his bare chest as he tucked her head under his chin. "Hey, Angel?" He kissed the top of her head lovingly as he tightened his arms around her. "You keep this up and you're gonna start making me cry."

She gave a watery laugh and attempted to sniffle back her tears. He leaned back slightly, his hands moving to cup her face. His thumbs traced the contour of her cheeks as he wiped away the salty tracks left behind. He placed a tender kiss to her lips, tasting her tears. He rested his forehead on hers, their gazes locking.

She sucked in the last of her tears and nodded against his forehead, letting him know she understood what he had to do. "Okay," she said with a small tremor still in her voice. " _Ge smak daun, gyon op nodotaim_ , right?" she asked him, reciting a phrase he had taught her in his native language during their training sessions.

He nodded back as he promised her again, "Always."


	17. Whatever the Hell We Want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lincoln teaches Octavia how to swim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As an FYI, I'm also working on another project from Octavia’s POV that will eventually be a companion piece to this one. So far, it's mostly fluff and pillow talk that I've skipped over in Lincoln's story (like about how she grew up on the Ark). This means, Lincoln is going to know that history even though they haven't explicitly talked about it in what I’ve written here.

 

* * *

Lincoln paced restlessly around his cave having run out of distractions to keep himself occupied. He looked up through the natural skylight in the ceiling, checking the position of the sun for the thousandth time. His angel wasn't due to arrive for a while. He growled in frustration. Dammit! He hated waiting. He left his cave and headed for the Sky People's camp, using the faster alternate route he'd shown her that did _not_ lead straight through the _Trikru's_ Sacred Hunting Grounds.

As he neared the camp, he climbed up into the trees in case any of them might wander his way. He navigated through the branches as he approached the walls. Bellamy's gruff voice rang out, shouting orders at a group of Sky People lined up in front of him. Octavia wouldn't be able to leave until Bellamy left. Lincoln sighed and got comfortable in his tree, hoping he might sneak a glimpse of his angel. It reminded him of when the Sky People had first arrived only a couple of weeks earlier. He frowned as he remembered he never got his journal back.

A flurry of activity near the gate drew Lincoln's attention back to Bellamy and his gang.

"Octavia!" Bellamy's voice boomed out across the camp. When she didn't appear fast enough, Bellamy shouted again. "OCTAVIA!"

Lincoln's angel appeared from her tent. "I'm here, Bellamy. You can stop yelling already."

Bellamy dragged his sister a few feet away from the group. They were too far and too quiet for Lincoln to hear what was being said but whatever it was, it pissed his fiery, little angel off. She shoved past Bellamy and walked to the gate. "Open it!" she commanded the guards keeping watch. They looked to Bellamy first. He just stood there with his arms folded across his chest as he waited for Octavia to give up. She didn't.

"Ugh!" Octavia stormed toward the hidden side entrance Lincoln had used to escape a few days earlier. Bellamy followed after until they were almost directly beneath him.

"Look, O...."

She stopped to glare at him. "I don't care what you have to say, Bellamy. 'Whatever the hell we want,' remember?"

Bellamy frowned at having his words thrown back at him before he finally sighed in resignation. "Just be back before dark, please?"

Her mouth opened as she started to form a protest but then decided against it and simply nodded instead. Bellamy slung his arm around Octavia's shoulders and walked her back to the main gate, motioning for the guards to open it.

Lincoln grinned. His angel was being let out of her cage early. He quickly made his way through the treetops to intercept her. He waited until she walked past him before dropping down behind her from above.

She whirled, her arm rising up with a dagger in her hand as she attacked him. He easily disarmed her but she was still able to get in a few decent jabs with her fists before he caught her tightly, locking her arms down at her sides. "Not bad." He smiled at her. Her ferocious warrior demeanor thawed into a beatific smile. He pecked her on the lips. "Come on. I've got an adventure planned for you today," he said as he released her and began walking.

She came up beside him and her hand slipped into his as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He couldn't breath for a moment, startled at the touch. He had never held hands with someone like this before. Perhaps his mother when he was a child but he tried not to remember her too much. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, discovering he liked holding hands with her. She affectionately rubbed her cheek against his arm and his heart started doing that hummingbird thing again. He'd never been in love before and it was thoroughly overwhelming.

"Where are you taking me, Lincoln?" she asked him, oblivious to Lincoln's inner turmoil.

He didn't respond. He was leaving tomorrow and he wanted to make today special for her. He glanced down at her upturned face and stopped walking so he could kiss her again. This time, a little more than a peck. Maybe even some tongue. They started walking again, getting closer to his first surprise. He led her through a berry patch where they paused to feed each other berries. The bright juice ran from their fingers and lips and stained everything purple, including the tongue she teasingly stuck out at him.

"At least now I don't have to lie to Bellamy about going berry picking," she said, laughing.

He next took her to a shaded overhang where the flowers grew. They were his mother's favorite and she had told him how they were once the stars in the night sky that had fallen to earth and taken root but they retained their color and shape, never forgetting where they came from. Their story reminded him of his angel from the heavens.

He plucked one for her, bringing it to her nose for her to inhale the honeyed scent. Her eyes closed as her hand touched his, bringing the flower closer. "Mmmm." He was mesmerized.

"Do you like them?" he asked her.

"They're divine!" She inhaled again. "What do you call them?"

He shrugged. "My mother used to call them _Day Stars_."

Her brow wrinkled and she paused a moment with a wistful look in her eye. Lincoln bit his tongue, cursing his insensitivity as he remembered too late that tomorrow was the anniversary of her own mother's death.

"Thank you, Lincoln," she said softly, pulling him out of his self-reproach. "I love them."

The flutter returned to his heart and he smiled widely at her. "Come on." He took her hand in his again. "I've got one more surprise for you."

They walked in companionable silence through the forest. Every now and again, he pointed out a bird or a plant he thought she might find interesting. Sometimes he showed her the signs and tracks of various animals that had passed through or he had her listen for the sounds of the woods teeming with life all around them. They eventually reached the pond Lincoln used for bathing.

She eyed the water with trepidation. He laughed, knowing she was remembering her encounter with Old Bethesda, the river snake that didn't take too kindly to Octavia disturbing her territory. "Don't worry. The water is safe here," he said, reassuringly. He briskly stripped down to his undershorts and waded in before turning to face her on the shore. She hadn't moved from where he left her, still fully dressed. "Come on, Octavia!" He splashed at her. "Don't you want to learn how to swim?"

Her mouth scrunched up as she weighed her options. "Okay." She finally agreed, sitting down to pry off her boots. She then tossed off her jacket and shimmied out of her pants, wiggling her butt at him in playful seduction. She turned to face him, giving him a sly look as she crossed her arms down to the bottom of her tank top and peeled it off, leaving on nothing but her panties. Lincoln reached down underwater to adjust himself.

"Are you sure it's safe?" She asked as she tiptoed into the water.

Lincoln rolled his eyes, waiting until she was close enough for him to yank her in. She came up sputtering and disheveled. Stringy clumps of her hair roped about her face and snagged on her nose and chin. "Lincoln!" She smacked him and he just laughed.

He took her hands in his and coerced her deeper into the water until he knew she could no longer touch the bottom. "Ready?" He asked her, trying not to stare at the water lapping at her nipples as he wished it were his tongue instead. He caught her staring at his nipples. She licked her lips. "Pay attention." He wasn't sure if he was saying that to her or to himself.

She nodded, dragging her gaze back up to his face.

"Okay, pretend like you're gonna to kick someone's leg out from under them," he said as he tried to explain to her how to paddle. "Now, do that with both of your legs at the same time, in circles." The current turned choppy about his legs as she kicked furiously under water. "A little slower." He instructed. "Good." He took a step away from her and then released her hands.

She panicked and began flailing her arms about as her head started to drop underwater. He grabbed her hands again, bringing her back up. "Concentrate, Octavia."

She nodded.

He stepped back again, releasing her hands once more. She gulped but maintained her composure, her head bobbing up and down in the water. "I'm...doing...it!" She stuttered out proudly between slightly less frantic strokes of her legs.

He smiled and crooked his finger to her, letting her figure out on her own how to move through the water toward him. She finally reached him, placing her hands on his shoulders as she stopped paddling her legs. She grinned triumphantly and floated up to kiss him. He only allowed her the one kiss before he spun her away from him and said, "Again!"


	18. A Warrior Doesn't Worry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lincoln teaches Octavia how to hunt.

  


 

* * *

After he finished teaching her the basics of swimming, they climbed out of the pond and lay down beside each other on the grass, letting the sun dry the water from their skin. Octavia was on her stomach, her head turned toward him, pillowed in her arms. Lincoln lay on his back with his arms folded under his head, watching the clouds float by.

She leaned up, crooking her elbow and resting her cheek in her palm as she placed her other hand over his heart. "I think Bellamy knows about us," she said casually as she began to trace the dagger-shaped tattoos between his pecs.

Lincoln turned to face her with a doubtful expression. Bellamy would have hunted him down and tried to kill him if he knew what Lincoln was doing with his little sister.

"He's been different since you escaped," she continued on, her finger still stroking along the lines. "He let me leave today all alone and he would have never done that before." Her finger continued down past the end of his tattoo to circle around his belly button.

He groaned and grabbed her hand in his, flattening it against his stomach so she wouldn't continue tempting him. "Maybe he's finally realizing you can protect yourself," he said.

She rolled closer to him and tucked her head under his arm, her nipples titillating his side as she nuzzled his chest and tugged on the elbow cushioning his head. He obliged her and wrapped his arm around her, giving her a tender squeeze. She squiggled closer and hooked her right leg over his hips, her thigh coming to rest across the front of his undershorts. He let go of her hand on his stomach to move her thigh a little higher and out of range. His hand progressed further along her thigh, feeling the upraised scar from Old Bethesda's teeth. Her knee injury was also healing nicely and he remembered how she had told him the Sky People were bred to heal faster.

Her stomach growled loudly and Lincoln chuckled. He sat up, disengaging himself from her before he got sidetracked from his plans for the day. "Ready to go kill us some lunch?" he asked her.

* * *

Lincoln taught her how to catch a squirrel and how to humanely take its life. He taught her how to skin it and clean it and he taught her how to make a fire and cook it properly. She would be able to feed herself now, yet there was still so much more to teach her before he left tomorrow. He gazed thoughtfully at her across the low-burning fire. Her skin was now a delicate, sun-kissed pink and he wondered if she would tan and how dark she might get. He turned his head away as it reminded him he probably wouldn't live to see it.

He shook his head, trying to clear the melancholy. _A warrior doesn't worry about what he can't control_ , he recited to himself. But it wasn't worry that made him sad. It was that he finally saw there could be so much more to his barren existence than constant pain and death. He wasn’t ready to lose it so soon.

She caught him staring broodingly at her and smiled in return, bursting him with her sunlight and banishing away the dark clouds from his thoughts. "So, when do I get my next lesson?" she asked shrewdly, having figured out what he had been up to all day.

"We can train you some more," he suggested. They had gotten an earlier start than he planned so there wasn't much else left on his agenda. "It's beautiful today so we can practice outside, if you want." With winter coming there weren't going to be many more days like this.

Octavia wrinkled her nose. "I'm a little tired from all that swimming. Do you wanna make out instead?"

Lincoln spat out the piece of meat that lodged in his throat, sending him into a coughing fit. His ribs reminded him why that was a bad idea as Octavia hurried over to his side with a flask of water.

"I have to be home by nightfall and...." She trailed off, her face turning pinker from embarrassment.

"Don't," he said gently, not wanting her to be ashamed of her desire for him. "I want you, too, Octavia. With every beat of my heart." That was an understatement.

"Then, why--." She was cut off as Lincoln placed a finger to her lips.

"We can go back to my cave if you want." He hadn't even finished speaking before Octavia was on her feet and bustling about their impromptu picnic spot as she got rid of the evidence of their presence like he had taught her. Lincoln laughed softly as he stood up to help, thankful for having been given at least this precious time with her.


	19. Even in These Clothes*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time for Lincoln and Octavia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A day late because I ended up writing some Unity Day stuff yesterday instead of finishing this.

  

 

* * *

The entire walk back to his cave was Octavia's idea of foreplay. The closer they got, the more pieces of clothing Octavia discarded...from both herself and him. She jumped in front of him, stopping him with her hands on his chest. "Shirt," she demanded.

He laughed as he complied and removed his shirt before bending down to kiss her. He wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her against him so she could feel his erection on her belly. She brought her leg over his hip, angling herself against said erection. Lincoln groaned as he hauled her away and set her back down on her feet before he took her right there in the middle of the forest. Everything was a challenge to her. She was always trying to one-up him and he loved her competitive spirit, just not when he had such an untenable grasp on his control, which seemed to be all the time around her.

Once inside the cave, Octavia wasted no time removing her own shirt before she launched herself at him, her arms flinging around his neck as her mouth opened for his. He caught her, raising her up, meeting her halfway. Their hunger and desire intertwined as did their tongues and their limbs.

She tore her mouth away before she pushed him back and down into a chair. Then, she straddled him. Her hands descended down his chest and to his stomach as his muscles rippled in response to her stimulating touch. Her mouth moved to his neck, to the base of his tattoo, her feather light kisses following the path of the ink up behind his ear. She nuzzled the soft skin there as she captured his earlobe between her teeth, giving it a light pinch that sent a charge through his body straight to his groin. Her fingers danced along his sides as she rocked forward in his lap, her legs twisting around the back of his calves, finding his arousal with her center. He clutched her hips in his hands and led her into the rhythm she was seeking.

"Make love to me, Lincoln," she whispered against his ear, grinding against him as she repeated the words that had been tormenting him since yesterday. "Please." The first word she had ever spoken to him. This time, he delivered.

He held onto her as he stood up and carried her over to his furs. He laid her down, pausing a moment to paint the image of her permanently into his head. Her arms reached for him but he drew back away from her touch. His hands went to the waistband of her pants and she smiled amorously at him as she helped him remove them. And suddenly, Lincoln was sinking. He tugged her knees open a little farther before running his thumbs up the inside of her thighs until he reached the edge of her panties. He paused, looking to her face, letting her know this was her last chance.

"Please," she said again, this time begging.

He didn't wait a moment longer and rolled her panties off first one leg, then the other, holding onto her foot and pressing a kiss against her ankle. He kissed along her calf; minute, fluffy brushes of his lips and breezy, tasting licks with his tongue. He kissed the sensitive skin behind her knee, his tongue prickling along the crease. The closer he got to her heat, the more breathless she became. He nipped and nibbled along the tender skin of the inside of her thigh and she bucked against him, a moan escaping from her.

Lincoln wasn’t able to resist her any longer. He tucked his right arm under her and lifted her hips up to his mouth to feast. He sipped and lapped at her essence, drowning in the sweet taste of her nectar. Her hips bucked against his mouth as she sobbed and writhed in ecstasy. His tongue probed into her recesses, her cries spurring him onward. She clasped his head between her thighs as he tightened his arm around her, drawing her closer, burying his tongue between her folds, curling it up to the top of her mound as he shoved two fingers inside her. His tongue plowed against her clit with almost-brutal force while his fingers pounded into her opening, digging for her g-spot. She was hysterical with ecstasy now on a never-ending climax, begging and pleading with him to give her release. His fingers found the spot and he surged his tongue against her nub at the same time and she was gone; seized in rapture, crying out his name over and over again as he showed her the stars.

He lowered her hips back down to the ground, keeping his arm around her as he moved up to rest his cheek against her belly, kissing the spot first. Her body continued to tremble with aftershocks of her pleasure as he still delicately stroked her between her legs, keeping her excitement sustained. She tugged on his ear, causing him to look up from where he was watching his fingers.

"My turn," Octavia said with a wicked gleam in her eye. She shoved at his shoulder and pushed him off her and onto his back. He lay there in surrender as she knelt between his legs, planting her hand on his belly, just above the significant bulge in his pants. He wasn’t sure if he was going to survive whatever she had planned.

She had a bit of difficulty removing the rest of his clothing but he was happy to assist. Just being naked with her for the first time was erotic in itself. She sat down on his left side, and laid her head on his stomach like he had done earlier. She positioned her hand first, moving it along his shaft as he had taught her. And then she sat up and added her mouth. Lincoln’s right hand tangled in her hair as his eyes rolled back in his head. His left hand caressed her backside as she licked and sucked and tugged and pulled. He clenched her bottom in his hand as he curved his fingers toward her opening, finding her hot and wet still. She swayed her hips back against his fingers and he nudged them in, his thumb hooking up to her clit. She moaned against his hardness and his hips jerked, bucking himself toward the back of her throat as his thumb rubbed and tapped circles against the tiny bundle of nerves and his fingers dug ever deeper inside her.

Her muscles clamped down around his fingers, her bottom rocking back against his hand as she took more of him into her mouth. His other hand scooped her hair off his stomach and out of her face so he was able to watch his cock disappearing in and out of her mouth, her hand following it up and down in a fluid motion.

"Ahh!" His right hand stiffened in her hair as his left hand delved into her folds, his thumb moving in a frenzy. Her mouth wrapped around his rod as her nether lips clutched around his fingers. Her tongue swirled the tip of his cock as her mouth vibrated with the moans from her climax.

He yanked her mouth off him before he came in her throat. He was close to hyperventilating. "We...gotta...." Her hand returned to fondling him. He was definitely hyperventilating, struggling to get the words out. "...talk about...consequences." She moved her hand up his shaft. "Ahh!"

"It's okay." She kissed the valley of his chest, her hair like silk against his skin. "I already told you: they took care of that for me on the Ark." She followed up the kiss with her tongue.

"No, I meant…." He gasped for breath as her tongue tickled at his belly button. "...Me leaving tomorrow." He finally managed to blurt out.

She stilled and sat up to stare him directly in the eyes. “Then what are you waiting for.”

Lincoln stopped waiting, sitting up himself to take her face in his hands and kiss her with every bit of desire coursing through his body. The taste of her still on his lips mingled with the taste of him upon her lips and he was falling, spiraling, taking her with him into the depths of their passion.

He arranged her comfortably on the furs, adjusting her knees apart as he came to lie between them. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her ardently before resting his forehead against hers as he waited for her to get used to the feel of him fully on top of her. He wasn’t sure how far her confinement trauma went and so he moved cautiously. She raised her chin up and kissed him as her hands slid down his back. She gripped his buttocks and jutted her hips.

“Slow down, Love,” he whispered into her ear before his tongue flickered out to lick the salty sweat from her neck. She whined, her hands coming up, her nails scratching along his back as she arched her chest against him.

“I can’t wait any more, Lincoln.” She sobbed. Her mouth opened in a silent scream against his shoulder as his fingers found her nub again. He ran his fingers along her opening, her wetness clinging to them, before taking himself into his hand and lubricating his member with her juices.

He positioned himself within her wet folds, the tip of him nudging against her opening. He closed his eyes and swallowed. She whimpered, her hips shifting beneath him and his tip entered. His breath seethed from between his clenched teeth and he clutched her hip with his right hand to still her movement. She brought her hand down between her legs to touch herself again and he took it in his, enclosing it over his shaft instead so she controlled the penetration. Excruciatingly slowly, she inched him inside her, her muscles contracting and expanding around him as her body stretched to accommodate him. She whimpered again with desire and he let go of her hand to brace himself above her, watching her face as he entered her for the first time.

She tossed her head back and released him from her hand, her hips rising up to swallow him whole and he sank into her completely. He held still reveling in the warm embrace of her being as if she had been made for him and he for her. She moaned softly and he felt her muscles flex around him. He groaned back as he slowly eased himself back out of her. She whimpered, her hips following after. He met her halfway, surging into her. Again and again.

They breathed as one, their hearts and souls in sync, his thrusts matching hers, joined together completely. She was crying now, overwhelmed. Her ankles locked behind his back as he slammed harder and harder into her, propelling her and sending her farther over the edge. And then she shattered, her body stiffening and squeezing around his member. He pulled out and plunged deep again before his own orgasm overtook him. With one last thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, exploding into pieces along with her as he emptied himself inside her.

He collapsed on top of her, drained and unable to move for a moment as he tried to catch his breath, feeling her muscles still spasming around him. He didn’t want to leave her yet but he knew he must be heavy for her so he shifted his weight.

Her arms and legs tightened around him as she dragged him back close. “Not yet,” she said.

He smiled against her shoulder, happy to know she felt the same. He came up with an alternate solution and held onto her hips as he rolled onto his back with her on top of him. Disappointingly, he slipped out from her anyway and she grumbled. He chuckled as he adjusted her hips back over his, nestling himself into her curls. “This’ll have to do for now.”

Unsatisfied, she sat up…and he quickly discovered it did not take long for him to recover.


	20. Make a Warrior Out of You*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unity Day has finally arrived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last of the smut for a while as there is a lot of Unity Day story to cover.

 

 

* * *

It was getting late in the day and Octavia still hadn’t come to visit. Lincoln had promised her that he wouldn’t leave for Anya’s before saying goodbye. He knew the day was some special occasion for her people but for her, it was forever the day she had been imprisoned and her mother executed.

He left her flowers along the route she took to his cave, the white ones he had shown her yesterday. He thought it might make her happy again to see them. He made sure the fire was stoked and the cave was warm and inviting. He straightened up a few items and rearranged a couple of trinkets before realizing he was fidgeting. He flexed his fingers on his right hand, only feeling the smallest twinges of pain. It might do some good to stretch it out a bit and he hadn’t drawn in a while so he retrieved his chalk and started back up on the image on his cave wall of one of the explosions that created their world.

The faint sound of gravel underfoot announced her arrival. Lincoln smiled but continued his drawing. She was getting good. He waited until she struck and whirled around, easily catching her right hand as she pointed a knife at his face.

“Better?” she asked, gesturing to the knife in her other hand that was currently pointing at his chin.

Lincoln followed her gaze down to the second knife and nodded, duly impressed. “We’ll make a warrior out of you yet,” he said proudly as he tossed the knives away and stooped down to kiss her. His hands glided down her sides and then up and under her jacket, removing it from her. She chased after his mouth with hers as her hands went to his outer vest, sliding it off his shoulders and dropping it to the ground before she shoved his arms up so she could also remove his shirt.

He bent down and wrapped his arms around her thighs, lifting her up effortlessly. She cupped his face, kissing him over and over as he stepped to his furs and carefully set her down upon them. The way she looked at him, the glow of desire in her face, the breathless parting of her lips, the love and trust shining from her eyes. It was all for him. He smiled as he took hold of her hand on his cheek and brought it up and over her head, lacing their fingers together as she had taught him yesterday before he bent down to kiss her again and again.

His lips moved to her neck but before he could get much farther, she was rolling him onto his back and straddling him again. She sat up, her hips rotating against him as his hands ran up and down her thighs. She peeled off her shirt, yet his eyes remained transfixed on hers, her face an open expression of her desire for him. He sat up to cradle her cheeks, to kiss her again, to feel her breasts against his chest again, to make love to her again. Her kisses were tender, her hips swaying against him as she lowered them both back down to the furs. She continued to kiss him, light, airy little sucks against his lips. She took his hands in hers and placed them above his head, lacing her fingers through them as he had done to her.

She nibbled on his bottom lip, kissing it and tugging on it until his hips bucked beneath her and then she sat up; this time scooting back to the top of his legs while her fingers fumbled over the front of his pants as she tried to take them off. He quickly helped her remove them before tumbling her over onto her back. She was already removing her own pants and underwear, hurriedly kicking them from her ankle.

He lay on his side, enthralled by her magnificence. He ran the back of his finger along the curve of her breast and she arched toward it. He then circled her nipple, watching as it puckered tighter before he ran the pad of his finger across it. She let out a tiny gasp. He trailed his finger down, down, down to her belly button. Her hips lifted up reflexively.

“Lincoln.” She sighed.

He leaned over and placed a soft peck on her lips as his finger continued its journey toward her bliss. She grew too impatient and covered his left hand in hers as her right hand tugged at his neck, bringing him back down to kiss her again. Properly. Lincoln smiled against her mouth as her hand guided his between her legs. He ran his middle finger over her slit first, tracing it as his tongue traced her lips. He pressed the tip of his tongue against the center of her lips as his finger found her other center. She moaned, opening her mouth and her legs wider to him.

He kissed her until she was breathless, his fingers gliding in and out, his thumb seeking out her clit, drawn to it and the way he could make her scream with his touch. His tongue dove into her mouth, mimicking the plunge of his fingers. Her hand no longer guided his but clung to his wrist instead for stability. She was almost there. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back, breaking their kiss. His hand increased the tempo between her legs while he held her gaze steady, watching her mouth falling open on choked-back screams. His thumb rubbed harder as his fingers pounded against her g-spot. She furtively clawed at the furs beneath her as her back arched off the blankets and....

“Aah!” She screamed.

He wasn’t done with her. He swiftly moved between her legs, nudging them open farther, lifting her knees over his shoulders as he brought her up to his mouth and buried his face in her mound. His tongue plowed deep between her folds, swirling and stroking, tasting her texture. She was trembling now, shaking uncontrollably by his relentlessness.  Sobs and moans poured out in a babble as she clung to his head, urging him on while begging him to let her go. He ran his tongue against her clit, moving the hood back with the tip, exposing her nub. The roughness of his tongue scraped against her directly once. Twice. A third time, but this time he left it in place and wiggled it. Her entire body seized, her toes curling and her muscles clenching and she was singing out her ecstasy as he finally set her free.

He came up to rest on top of her, his mouth consuming hers, the taste of her coating his lips. He brought her right leg up over his arm, opening her wider to him. His hand came between them, arranging himself at her entrance as his knuckles massaged against her.

But she was done with him being in control and she moved her leg from over his arm and he suddenly found himself on his back with her on top. Her hand moved between their legs as she adjusted his member back to her entrance again and she sank slowly down on top of him. He stretched his hand out to her, starting to sit up but she pushed him back down, her hands upon his shoulders as she leaned over him and brought her hips up, rising off him until he was almost entirely out of her before she lowered back down. Deliberately and steadily, she rode him. Up and down. Up…and down.

“Uh!” He couldn’t take much more. He reached for her again. This time, she took his hands in hers and placed them over her breasts as her hips rocked against his, faster and faster. He squeezed her breasts while his thumbs brushed across her nipples, twisting them, tugging on them. He moved his left hand down to caress her side, down to her hip, down between her legs. He stroked his fingers between their bodies, along her lips where they were joined, feeling where she ended and he began, feeling the hot, wet heat their bodies were generating, slicking his fingers with it. His fingers searched for her nub again, digging through her folds and finding it only to have her remove his hand moments later. She brought it to her mouth, capturing his fingers between her lips as she sucked the fluids from them like her heat sucked at his cock with every rise and fall of her hips.

“Octavia!” He begged. His breath was coming out in gasps now as her body undulated provocatively with every drive of his hips.

Her hand came down between her legs to touch herself and he felt her sheath ripple around his shaft. His hips rocked and shifted beneath her as he watched her pleasure herself on top of him. She began whimpering in the final throes and her body convulsed around him, her walls clamping down, sucking him deeper.  It was more than he could take. His head fell back as his hips thrust up, burying himself as deep as he could arch against her. His hands gripped her hips, slamming her down on him. Once, twice. She screamed out his name and he came, holding her still as he pumped he seed into her.

It was her turn to collapse on top of him. “I think I like being on top,” she whispered breathlessly into his ear as her muscles continued to flex and contract around him.

His only answer was a groan. He liked her being on top, too.


	21. Maybe There's Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finn proposes a truce.

 

* * *

It was already past time for Lincoln to leave. Neither one wanted to say goodbye so they agreed they wouldn’t. It was too final, too permanent. Lincoln climbed out of his cave first before lifting Octavia up and out. He set her down on her feet and she smiled up at him, her skin aglow and still in a daze in the aftermath of their lovemaking. His mouth curved into a smile and he couldn't resist kissing her again.

A twig snapped and both their heads jerked toward it as Lincoln shoved Octavia behind him, spinning with his dagger out, ready to fend off the attacker.

“Finn?!” Octavia clutched onto Lincoln’s jacket from behind. “Lincoln, wait! Wait! He’s my friend!”

Finn was crouched before them, a knife in his hand as he breathed heavily from his mouth. Lincoln didn’t move, keeping his arm out for Octavia to stay back.

“I think you lost this,” Finn said, proffering the blade Lincoln had misplaced in his side. He tossed it on the ground in front of Lincoln, waiting.

Octavia tugged on Lincoln’s sleeve. She wanted him to give the boy a chance. Lincoln sighed and straightened up, putting his own dagger away before picking up the blade Finn had returned. The kid had allowed him to escape, after all.

Finn took that as a sign of welcome and strode past him and Octavia and straight into his cave, uninvited.

“So what the hell are you doing here?” Octavia asked Finn as she followed behind him into the cave. It still smelled of sex and Lincoln suddenly wondered just how long Finn had been outside, uncomfortable with the thought of him having overheard them.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Finn said as he walked further in the cave, snooping around. “I could also ask how long you’ve known he speaks English.” Finn pointed angrily at Lincoln as Octavia looked away. “But I won’t.” He started going through Lincoln’s things, picking up his horn. “You blew this when your people were hunting us.”

Lincoln nodded, still not willing to speak to this intrusive kid just yet…even if Octavia vouched for him.

“You saved our lives. I have to believe there’s more like you.” Finn thankfully put down Lincoln’s horn.

Lincoln felt Octavia’s eyes on him, burning into him. For her, dammit. “I stabbed you.” He finally spoke as he stepped closer to Octavia to let her know he would cooperate. He still didn’t take his eyes off the boy.

“And we tortured you,” Finn replied. “If the two of us can get along, then maybe there’s hope. Learn from history instead of repeating it, right?”

“How’s that going to happen?” Octavia asked.

“For starters,” Finn huffed out nervously, “no more killing.”

“I don’t have the power to call a truce.” Lincoln wasn’t even sure he wanted to call a truce.

“Then bring me to someone who does.” Finn demanded.

Lincoln snorted at his audacity, looking away toward Octavia in disgust. Her eyes pleaded with him to listen.

“Hey, look,” Finn continued on. “The rest of our people are coming down here. The first ship lands in two days.”

“It’s true,” Octavia said.

“And because of the attacks, they’re sending mostly soldiers, the people that enforce our laws,” Finn said.

Lincoln straightened up, finally paying attention to the boy. This was information that just might spare his life with Anya.

“The Ark is about survival at any cost.” Finn began speaking vehemently. “And they’ll kill people who fall out of line. When those people get down here, if they feel threatened, they will start a war. And I don’t want that. Neither do you. And I think that’s why you blew that horn.”

Lincoln looked down; no, he didn’t want another war. But these people were invaders. They had burned a village to the ground, killing five people, and now they were bringing down their warriors as reinforcements.

“Once the soldiers get here, it will be too late and we’ll have no power to stop them,” Finn continued talking as Lincoln looked to Octavia, her expression serious enough for him to know the boy spoke true. “But if they see that we are at peace, then maybe we have a chance to stay that way.” Finn looked eagerly back and forth between Octavia and Lincoln, waiting for one of them to say something about his impassioned speech. The kid had probably rehearsed it while he waited for them.

Lincoln decided to give the boy what he wanted. It was worth an attempt. “All right.” He nodded. “You bring your leader, I’ll bring mine.”

“What? Bellamy? He’ll never go for this,” Octavia said.

“No,” Lincoln replied. “Not your brother.”

It took a moment for realization to dawn on Finn’s face. “Clarke.”

Lincoln nodded. He turned to Octavia, taking her hand in his, the only sign of affection he was willing to display in front of Finn. “Take him to the bridge so he knows how to get back there from your camp.” Lincoln looked back at Finn. “Meet there at dawn. No guns.”

Finn nodded. “No more bloodshed. We have to do better,” he said emphatically as he continued to stand around expectantly when all Lincoln wanted him to do was leave.

"Can you give us a moment?" Lincoln asked.

Finn nodded and lifted his hands up to show he wasn't trying to intrude as he took a giant step back. “By all means.”

While Lincoln tried to come up with a polite way to tell Finn that's not what he meant, Octavia held no such qualms. "Get the hell out, Finn."

Finn frowned at her like she was overreacting. "Okay, okay. I'll wait outside. But hurry up."

Lincoln watched him carefully as he left, still not wholly trusting the boy. Octavia grasped his face in her hands, bringing it back toward hers. "Do you think this will work?" she asked him with a tiny shred of optimism in her eyes that they might still see their way through this together.

He didn't want to disappoint her. "It might." He rubbed her arms through her jacket, not wanting to let her go just yet. “Can we trust him?”

She shrugged and glanced away. “Maybe he’s right. Maybe there’s hope.”

“Hey.” He tilted her face up toward him, seeing the tears in her eyes.

Her bottom lip trembled. “I can’t lose you, too. Not today. Not ever.”

He wasn’t going to lie to her so he enveloped her in his arms instead, hugging her close and pressing her face into his chest so he wasn't able to see her tears. He didn’t want to die either, mostly because he didn’t want to cause her the grief. He rested his cheek on the top of her head and closed his eyes, inhaling her scent, feeling how perfectly she fit in his arms. “It’s the only chance we got.”

She leaned back in his arms, her eyes full of panic and distress. “Kiss me, Lincoln.”

He nodded, bringing his head down to hers as he lifted her up to meet him. It started out chaste, meant to be comforting. She clung to the front of his jacket, dragging him closer as her tongue swept inside his mouth. Her fear, her worry for him, her sorrow; they were all intertwined in the passion of her kiss and he took that from her, plundering her until she was breathless and whimpering with desire again, her worries forgotten.

“Octavia!” Finn called into the cave as Lincoln heard pebbles tumbling at the entrance. “Hurry up!”

Lincoln growled in frustration, the only thing keeping him from going out there to punch the kid was Octavia’s hand on his chest, soothing his irritation.

“Promise me you’ll come back.”

" _Ge smak daun, gyon op nodotaim_ ," he reminded her so he wouldn’t make a promise he wasn’t sure he could keep. “Now let’s go before he barges back in.”

As they exited the cave, Finn stood near the entrance twirling between his fingers one of the flowers Lincoln had picked earlier for Octavia. “Ready?” he asked Octavia, only sparing Lincoln a cursory glance.

Octavia snatched the flower out of Finn’s hand. “Come on,” she said, turning to leave.

Lincoln caught her hand in his, tugging her back to him. Finn be damned. He was going to kiss his angel uninterrupted one last time before meeting whatever fate Anya might have in store for him.

It was a desperate, hungry kiss as his tongue swept inside her mouth, ravishing her. He had taken from her earlier but now he gave back. He kissed her with all the yearning and passion he felt for her. He poured into her all the freedom and joy he had experienced with her over these last few days. He flooded her with his dreams and desires. He drowned her in his love. And then he finally kissed her with all the goodbyes left unspoken.

She gave a small whine of longing as he finally pulled away. He rested his head against her forehead gazing into her eyes, seeing her newfound determination and fortitude. “Okay?” he asked her.

She nodded. “Let’s do this.”


	22. Get Behind Your Walls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unity Day bridge meeting.

 

 

* * *

Caliban led Lincoln into the War room of the outpost where Anya stood imposingly with Vik and Tomac flanking her.

"What do you have to report, Lincoln?" Anya asked. "And why are you late?"

"After we killed three of theirs, they took me captive and tried to torture me for information." Short and to the point. "I escaped, healed up a bit, and came here." Lincoln dared not give any signal that the shrewd Anya might pick up.

"He lies." Vik spoke up from behind.

No lies, just omissions, Lincoln justified to himself.

"I saw him yesterday. He's fallen in love with one of them," Vik continued on.

Lincoln clenched his jaw. The bastard had been spying on him. "They approached me and want to talk a truce."

Anya folded her arms over her chest. "Is this true, Lincoln?" she asked him and he knew she didn't mean about meeting with the Sky People.

Lincoln inhaled, knowing what might come next and nodded once. There was the slightest movement above Anya's lip, imperceptible to most, but Lincoln had known Anya all his life. Disappointment, sadness, anger, and back to sadness, all in that one little twitch. She was his leader and he had betrayed her.

“ _Natrona_!” Vik sneered at Lincoln. Traitor. Vik had never liked Lincoln. Vik was a cold-hearted warrior like Lincoln’s father and thought of Lincoln as weak even if he was one of the few people who could best Vik in a fight. It had injured Vik’s pride further when the only reason Vik was now one of Anya's Lieutenants was because Lincoln had refused first.

"Enough, Vik.” Anya waved him and Tomac away. She waited until she was alone with Lincoln before speaking again. “Tell me about this truce."

She was dropping the other topic for now, but Lincoln knew he wasn't spared yet. “They have guns now, like the Mountain Men. But they’re sticking around the area they landed and aren’t venturing further.”

“It doesn’t matter. We can hold off the Mountain Men and their technology; we can hold off the Sky People and theirs. Tell me, what of their leaders?”

“I was right about them having two: a healer and a warrior. Bellamy is the warrior and he defers to Clarke, she’s the healer.”

Anya raised an eyebrow at the interesting leadership dynamic. “Are they a threat?”

Lincoln thought about it. They had started out as kids like Finn but the few short weeks on the ground had turned the best of them into fighters. Not quite warriors, but still deadly. “I think it’s worth listening to what they have to say.”

“Why?” Anya’s eyes narrowed. “Because of this…this pet you’ve found?”

Lincoln swallowed, taking a chance. “Because I don’t want another war. And neither does our _Heda_.”

Anya snorted. “You think this will be a war? There’s not enough of them! We’ll clean them up quickly and be done with this matter before Caliban even arrives at the Commander’s side.”

“They have Reinforcements coming in two days. Mostly warriors.”

That gave Anya pause. “How many?”

“Another ship like the first one. The first of many.”

She was quiet as she contemplated this new information. “All right, Lincoln. You’ll get your meeting.”

Lincoln nodded, trying to remain as impassive as possible. “I told them to bring Clarke to the bridge at dawn and no weapons.”

“So soon?” She studied Lincoln. “So you knew I would say yes?”

“I’ve known you all my life, Anya.” He shrugged. “You can be reasonable.”

She sighed. “Go. Go find your pet. I’ll see you at the bridge at dawn.”

Lincoln obeyed, not willing to test how deep the waters of her discontent went about the situation. He had a potential war to help stop right now and she was cooperating which was all that mattered. If the meeting went well, then maybe she would let him live.

Lincoln ran the whole way to the bridge, setting a grueling pace his body wasn’t quite healed for but he ignored it, the thought of seeing Octavia again spurring him on. Anya had already sent others ahead to take up a defensive position and he didn't like Octavia exposed to them even if they weren't meant to harm her. As he neared the bridge, he saw her, his angel, waiting for him at the other end.

She looked up, spotted him, and began running toward him, ecstatic to see he was still alive. Lincoln didn't slow until he reached her, stooping low to pick her up as she threw herself into his arms. He caught her about the waist, lifting her up, holding her close and burying his face in her neck, grateful for every time he was able to see her again.

He lowered her back to her feet, gazing down at her. She clung to him still, searching for a sign that everything was all right. He spared her a smile until he saw the blonde one, Clarke, over the top of Octavia’s head. His jaw tightened menacingly and, even though she was halfway across the bridge from him, Clarke took a step back. Finn awkwardly grabbed hold of her hand as Lincoln continued glaring, unable to dispel the distaste at seeing her again. She might be their healer but there was a darkness to her that made Lincoln fear for Octavia’s safety under her command. He could feel Octavia’s eyes on him, her hands stroking his forearms as she silently urged him to behave.

Fortunately, Vik and Tomac rode up right then with Anya behind them. Lincoln turned as Finn came running up to him, dragging Clarke along by the hand he so firmly grasped.

“Hey, we said no weapons!” Finn exclaimed as he saw Vik and Tomac armed with their spears and bows.

“I was told there wouldn’t be,” Lincoln said, even though he also knew there were probably half a dozen other _Trikru_ in the trees around them and, whether Finn knew it or not, Lincoln suspected there were more Sky People watching as well. Clarke wasn’t stupid.

“It’s too late now,” Clarke replied. She shared a look with Finn and they both started walking toward Anya.

Lincoln stopped him, shaking his head. The kid vainly thought of himself as a leader. “She goes alone.”

Finn looked worriedly over at Clarke as she said, “I’ll be fine.”

“Clarke….”

“Hey,” Clarke interrupted Finn. “It’s time to do better.” She extricated her hand from Finn’s and began walking the rest of the way across the bridge as Anya climbed down off her horse.

As the two leaders approached each other, Anya strode with a warrior’s confidence, proud and with her head held high. Clarke was hesitant, glancing back at them over her shoulder as she took a deep breath of courage. They met in the middle and exchanged names. Clarke offered her hand in a naïve attempt at formality.

They were too far away to hear most of what was being said but Lincoln already knew what Anya had to say. He paced behind Octavia and Finn, keeping his eyes peeled on Vik who was scrutinizing Octavia a little too closely.

Anya blinked, drawing Lincoln’s attention back to the two leaders. Clarke must have said something pleasing for Anya to have blinked. It bode well that they might be able to come to an agreement. Anya’s arms were soon crossed, however, and Lincoln’s eyes flickered back to Vik, seeing him caressing his bow.

“Clarke, run! Run!” Screams came from down the embankment beneath the bridge followed by a rapid rat-a-tat sound.

Lincoln shoved Octavia back while Finn ducked down. One of the archers in the trees tumbled to the ground, shot by the guns the Sky People had brought. Chaos soon followed with bullets and arrows crossing through the air. Another _Trikru_ archer fell. Lincoln kept Octavia behind him; his only concern was to protect her. Finn started crawling his way to Clarke’s side to help her to safety.

Anya quickly mounted her horse and took off with Tomac following behind while Vik took one last aim with his bow and fired an arrow straight for Octavia. Lincoln jumped in front of it, catching it in his left shoulder. “Ugh!”

“Oh, my god! Lincoln! You’ve been hit.” Octavia was panicked.

Lincoln knew what she was thinking, that she was catastrophizing this into his death sentence. Yeah, it hurt like hell, but it wasn’t deep. “It’s just a scratch,” he said as he broke off the end. Clarke and Finn made their way toward them. “Okay, run.” Lincoln seized Octavia’s arm, yanking her away from him. “Don’t stop till you get behind your walls.” He shoved her toward Clarke. “Go! Take her!”

“Lincoln! No!” Octavia screamed as Clarke started to drag her away.

“Go!” He shouted back. There wasn’t time for her to argue. He watched as she let Clarke take her away, her panic for him still palpable as she disappeared into the forest. He then glared at Finn knowing he was somehow to blame. The kid spun around and ran off. Lincoln sighed and turned back to where Anya had left. This was it. He was out of chances.


	23. They Started a War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens after the bridge. More Anya and Lincoln.

 

* * *

It didn’t take long for Anya and her warriors to regroup and return. Anya rode toward where Lincoln stood in the middle of the bridge, not slowing her horse. “Lincoln!” She screamed at him, her blade outstretched above her head. “I ought to kill you now!” She pulled up on the reins, stopping the horse. She dismounted and stormed toward him. “What the hell happened?”

“They brought back-up.”

“I can see that!” Anya started to motion behind her for her warriors to continue after the Sky People.

“Let them go, Anya,” Lincoln said, exhaustion in his voice. “They’ll make it back to camp where they have more guns.”

“What’s the count?” Anya called over her shoulder.

“Two wounded,” Tomac shouted back. “The fall outta the trees did the most damage.”

Anya glared at Lincoln. “You owe me, Lincoln.”

Lincoln nodded, relieved she wasn’t going to pursue Octavia and the others.

“We’re not finished.” Anya turned and strode back to her horse, mounting up. “And you’re coming back with us.” 

* * *

When Lincoln arrived at the outpost, it was to see everyone in a flurry of movement, carrying the two wounded archers in, tethering horses, and shouting out to each other.

Anya stood in the midst of it, still commanding her unit. “Go send riders to _Tondisi_ and _Polis_ ,” she said to Vik. “Tell the Chief and the Commander what occurred here today. Ask the Chief to send more warriors.” She saw Lincoln and waved him to the building before snagging a passing warrior. “You, go send for Delano. I hear he has one of them captive.”

Lincoln ducked inside the room, unable to hear the rest of what she said. He went to a table against a wall where Anya kept her medical supplies. He pulled off the left side of his jacket, easing it over the broken shaft of the arrow so as not to dislodge the tip into his chest.

He inspected the wound. The arrowhead had not penetrated too deeply and he was able to grasp it with his fingers and he pried it out. He tasted the tip. Poisoned, of course. Lincoln sighed and grabbed a bottle off the table. He brought it to his lips and took a generous swig.

Anya entered and sloughed off her jacket. “Dammit, Lincoln! They shot me." She moved over next to him at the table and picked up a needle and thread. “Two others are also wounded. How is that a peace meeting? That seemed more like an ambush to me.”

Lincoln held out his hand, offering to stitch her up. She glared at him before turning around to lean against the table while she poked at the gunshot wound on her arm. “Only a graze.” She threw down the needle and thread, no longer needing them. “I’ve sent a rider to Indra asking for more warriors.” She watched Lincoln like a hawk, waiting for something.

“You’re planning to attack,” he stated.

She nodded slowly, still eyeing him carefully. “They shot first. They started a war.”

A commotion outside drew their attention and Vik popped his head in. “Another ship just came down!”

Anya and Lincoln raced outside after him, staring up into the sky but already having missed it.

“It sounded like there was an explosion!” Someone shouted from where the warriors had gathered to watch.

Anya looked warily over at Lincoln and frowned. “Vik,” she called out. “Go send two scouts to see what just landed.”

“We can still stop this, Anya,” Lincoln said.

“It’s too late. The rest of our warriors won’t be here for a few more days. Their reinforcements have already arrived.”

“Let me see if I can talk to them again. Please.” Lincoln wasn’t above begging. If they went to war, Lincoln was no longer certain he would be able to fight against the Sky People. He didn’t want to have to make that choice. “Maybe we can hold them off a bit longer.”

Anya squinted one eye as she looked at Lincoln. She was considering it.

“It would buy us more time to gather our forces.” That’s not what Lincoln had meant but she was agreeing anyway. “Go back to your cave, go see your pet. I want to know about this other ship, if more reinforcements are still coming. Any information you can get. Make yourself useful to your people.”

“You want me to spy on them.”

“That’s been your job since the beginning, hasn’t it?” Anya raised an eyebrow, folding her arms across her chest. “I just didn’t expect you to be so good at it.”

Lincoln choked in surprise. And there it was. The reason Anya had been letting him live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Jasper thinks he killed two Grounders at the meeting, but the archers were far enough away and we see in I Am Become Death that Jasper is not that good a shot anyway so it's doubtful his account is accurate. Besides, Anya would have definitely gone after them *immediately* if Jasper had really killed two of her men.


	24. Because of the Bridge*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lincoln and Octavia meet up after the failed bridge truce

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is so late because I realized I couldn't just wing the next few chapters and would actually have to figure out what the timing of the events are since they happen so rapidly on the show. Also, this is the last time Lincoln and Octavia are "together" all the way until freaking Season 2′s Remember Me.
> 
> And a personal milestone: I hit 30k in less than 30 days (50k is my next goal).

 

* * *

His cave was dark as he entered, the fire from last night having long since burned out. His eyes adjusted quickly as he scanned the shadows for any potential threats. There was a bundle under his furs. His heart stopped as his imagination went to the worst possible place. Had Vik gotten his hands on Octavia like he had threatened?

His heart started pounding again as he crossed over the room and fell to his knees beside her, reaching for her shoulder. “Octavia,” he whispered her name in terror.

She turned over at his touch, her eyes fluttering open. “Lincoln?” She sat up, throwing her arms around his neck.

His eyes closed tight and he let out a raggedy sob of relief that she was uninjured and alive. He clung to her, burying his face in her hair, breathing her in.

“Oh, Lincoln!” She cried against his neck. “I was so scared they’d killed you and fed you to the bugs because of the bridge!”

“I’m still here.” His hands swept through her hair and down her back as he drew her closer, needing this moment of comfort in her arms.

“What’s going to happen now?” She finally drew back from him ever so slightly, just enough for him to see the dried tears staining her cheeks.

He leaned forward and kissed each cheek and then her lips. “I’m still useful to Anya so I live another day.”

“Why?” she asked. “Why do you keep going back?”

“Because they’re my people.” He knew she didn’t understand. She had never lived among her own people, hidden away her entire life with only a mother and brother to talk to. “I’m loyal to them.”

“But they’re going to kill you eventually. Doesn’t that mean anything?”

He shrugged. “I deserve it.”

She cupped his cheek. “Do you trust me?”

He nodded.

“Then trust me when I tell you that you don’t deserve to die,” she whispered fervently as she ran her thumb across his lips. “Besides, I saved your life. You’re not allowed to waste it.” She smiled this time, trying to lighten the mood.

He chuckled softly, feeling a lightness in his soul at her belief in him. He had lived his entire life in self-doubt because everything within him cried out against everything he was taught. He didn’t want to fight, he didn’t want to kill, yet he was raised and trained to do just that. For so long, he had been a lone voice of peace among the war cries screaming for blood and now she had joined him, showing him he was no longer alone in his belief that there was more to this desolate world than either death or becoming a monster.

He lowered his lips toward hers and kissed her tenderly but she wanted more than that. She knelt up, struggling to strip him of his clothing without breaking their kiss until she got his shirt up to his chin. She then saw the bandage over his arrow wound and frowned. He tossed his shirt at her to distract her gaze. “Told you it was just a scratch.” He smiled endearingly at her and winked before scrambling to remove his shoes and the rest of his clothes. She joined in the race, giggling as her pant leg got stuck on her foot.

And then they were naked and he was lying beside her, his arms wrapped around her as he cradled her close. She draped her right leg over his hip, offering herself to him. He shifted his hips, his arousal digging against her thigh as his left hand moved between them to cup her mound. He groaned. She was so hot and soaked for him already. He didn’t hesitate and shoved two fingers inside.

“Aah!” Her head rolled back and her hips surged forward. She dragged his head into her neck and he suckled at the delicate skin there. His fingers moved inside her, stroking her walls as they rippled and flexed back. She began whimpering. Gods! She was so close already.

He pushed her over onto her back as he moved on top of her, his rod pressing into the top of her womanhood. Her hips lurched.

“Linc—oooh!” He prodded his hardness against her again, finding her nub as his fingers glided in and out of her. “Please, please! Oh!” She was begging now, a never-ending stream.

He leaned up, grinding harder as he brought his mouth to her ear. “Tell me what you want.” He bit her earlobe.

“Oooo!” Her hands went to his hips, clinging to them as she tried to shift beneath him.

“Tell me!” He demanded with a punctuated jab of his hips as he nipped a little harder at her earlobe before sucking on it.

Her hand moved between them and enclosed around his member. “I want you to fuck me.” She gasped.

He removed his fingers from inside her and seamlessly replaced them with his cock, ramming his hips forward as he moved her leg higher over his hip. She screamed as he buried himself inside her. He raised her hips even higher and drove forward again, yanking her flush against him as her back arched off the furs, her body convulsing. No loving kisses or tender caresses, just frantic, writhing bodies joining together faster and harder, each pant and grunt louder than before.

She groaned and whined and whimpered as he pounded in and out of her. He rose up between her legs, pulling up her hips along with him. He took her other leg and hitched it around his waist as he knelt between her legs. He crashed her against him again as he began thumbing her clit, hammering into her so hard that she moved beneath him from the force. He took one leg from around his waist and raised her ankle to his shoulder allowing him a new, deeper angle of penetration. He worked her harder, sinking deeper. She was moaning continuously now, grappling at the furs beneath her as he fucked her. He raised her other leg up onto his shoulder and leaned over her using his weight as leverage to slam into her even deeper, ever harder.

She held onto his wrists where his hands clutched her waist, pinning her to his mercy as he drilled relentlessly into her, her whimpers pitching higher the closer she came. He pushed his thumb in between her thighs, finding her treasure again, rubbing it rhythmically to the increasing thrust of his hips. Her body began to clench starting with her toes pointing beside his head, her calves tightening, her hips lifting, her walls gripping. Oh, gods!

“Aah!” He grunted as he came, continuing to shallowly pump into her as she sucked him dry. He toppled away from her, collapsing next to her onto his back, his chest heaving as he tried to regain control of his breathing. He glanced over at Octavia, her hair was in disarray across her face, her eyes were closed, and her mouth was partially open as she huffed, out-of-breath. She looked like she had just been thoroughly fucked. Lincoln grinned, quite pleased with himself.

She opened her eyes to see him watching her and smiled back before a small laugh of delight escaped from her, causing Lincoln to chuckle in return. She turned over onto her side and snuggled up next to him, laying her head on his chest and over his heart.

“When do you have to be back?” he asked her as he tugged a fur over them. He should get up and build a fire, but he wanted to lie here with her in his arms for a while longer.

“Not till tomorrow.” Her finger was circling his nipple. She pinched it.

He didn’t remember the question. “What?” He tightened his arm around her as she gave a breathy, little sigh across his nipple.

“Bellamy and Clarke took half the camp with them to scavenge the wreckage. I stayed behind.” The tip of her tongue flickered out to taste his nipple.

“The wreckage?” Lincoln asked. He was having a hard time concentrating. “You mean the ship; the reinforcements?”

She nodded against his chest. “It crashed.” She was quiet a moment. “What about the two grounders Jasper shot? Did he really kill them?”

“No.”

She let out a relieved sigh as her fingers resumed their exploration. He felt himself already stirring again despite having just recently found release. She slung her leg over him, the heat from her center so close, beckoning him. She shifted again and he felt the barest tickle of the curls between her legs against his shaft. He groaned, now fully aroused.

"Octavia," he whispered to her as he gently stroked her cheek.

"Mmmm."

"Love, I should get up and light us a fire."

"Ugh." She tucked her face into his chest as the top of her thigh brushed the tip of his erection again. She was doing it on purpose.

He clasped her leg to keep her from moving it but then his own treacherous hand started to move up the back of her thigh, his fingers drifting closer, curving along her buttocks. She inhaled sharply and rolled her hips toward his fingers. Lincoln closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing.

"Octavia." He was begging her now.

Her hand slid down from his chest and then.... "Uhh!" Lincoln swore he blacked out momentarily as her fingers danced airily across his rod. He grabbed her wrist, moving it away. "Angel, I won't be able to give you what you want if you keep that up." In retaliation, she wiggled her hips, working herself completely on top of him. “You’re insatiable, you know that?”

He sat up, arranging her knees on either side of him, leaning her back until she was lying across his legs, her body open to him. He splayed his hands across her belly, his thumbs pointing downward toward her nether region. Her hips showed dark, red marks from where he had held onto her too tightly earlier. “I’ve left you bruised,” he said contritely.

Octavia grinned enticingly at him from beneath half-closed eyes as she lifted her hips, opening herself to his gaze. “I don’t mind.” And he could see she didn’t.

This time, their lovemaking was slow and patient. They sat facing each other, their limbs entwined as they rode together at a relaxed pace. The darkness of his cave made it seem as though it was only the two of them among the vastness of the universe. They bathed in each other’s pleasure; he luxuriated in the feel of her skin against his, their bodies melding together as one. There was no urgency for completion, just ongoing ecstasy. Each time they floated closer and closer to release and each time he found it a little more difficult to wrench them both back from the brink.

Her head fell back and her whimpers and moans grew closer together as she approached another climax. He bent his head down, supping at her collarbone, holding onto her as she clenched and squeezed around him, riding him through her storm. He groaned, plunging himself deeper as his mouth moved down to envelop her breast, his tongue dancing across her nipple.

“I can’t take much more.” Octavia puffed. “Finish it, Lincoln. Please!”

He obeyed, taking her hips in his hands and holding her steady as he ground up into her, increasing the pressure. His teeth scraped her nipple, taking it between them as his tongue tapped against it.

“Uhhh!” She cried as he rocked harder into her. Her ankles locked around him as her body arched, jerking and thrashing in sacred rapture. He held onto her, moaning his own ecstasy into her bosom, sobbing in wonderment as he caught a glimpse of heaven.


	25. Soften the Battlefield*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anya tells Lincoln he has a choice.

 

 

* * *

He awoke early the next morning, realizing he had never lit the fire. It was all right, though, because he had wrapped himself around Octavia, keeping her warm. Her bottom was firmly against his morning arousal and he smiled, deciding to wake her up by making love to her one last time.

He scooted her legs up, opening her to him from behind and cushioned himself between her folds, rubbing his tip along her lips. He curved his left hand down her stomach and between her legs, his fingers searching the top of her thighs for her bud of desire. He felt her dampening around him, her petals opening to his touch.

“Mmmm.” She mumbled in her sleep.

He used his chin to brush her hair back from her neck before placing a tender kiss there. “Wake up, Love,” he whispered in her ear.

“Mmmmhmmm.” Her hips rolled back against him and he pressed himself further inside her welcoming embrace.

He nuzzled the back of her neck while his fingers plied the nub above her entrance, encouraging her to open wider for him. Her hand slid over his, arching herself against him as her hips rocked. He pushed forward, embedding himself fully into her. She groaned as her hand reached behind, grasping his side, holding him tightly within her as her body whimpered around him.

“Do you like that?” he asked as his thumb and fingers worked their magic between her creases. He eased out of her before surging back in, harder and deeper this time.

“Ah—!” Her breath hitched as her sheath suctioned around him.

“You know what’s great about this position?” he whispered as he shoved his hips forward again while massaging her mound. “It’ll work really well for when we can’t take our clothes off.” He nibbled on her earlobe before blowing gently across it.

Her hand moved off his hip and up to his head, holding his lips against her neck, her body bowing and twisting every time he plowed deeper into her. His fingers caressed along her lips, delving into the pocket at the top, applying pressure to her clit against the force of his strokes.

Her body grew taut, her hips lurching forward as her passage clenched and jerked at his cock. He moaned into her neck, the force of his fingers increasing as he increased his thrusts. She curled inward toward his hand, quivering and shaking with a silent scream upon her lips, her eyes shut tightly as she was swept away. He held onto her, groaning as he found his own release, his body shuddering as he poured himself into her.

“Morning,” he whispered into her ear.

* * *

They spent the rest of the morning training. Before, he had taught her how to take down a grown man twice her size; this time, he taught her how to kill. Before, he had given her the basics across a variety of weapons; this time, he focused on the sword. It would help her keep her distance from a bigger, stronger enemy like Vik. She needed to be able to kill him if he ever came after her, otherwise he would never stop.

All too soon, it was time for Lincoln to report back to Anya and Octavia needed to get back to her camp before Bellamy returned. As he walked her back, he warned her not to return to his cave unless it was safe. He didn’t want her to be easy to find if Vik…. He shook his head. He was letting Vik’s taunts get to his head.

When they arrived at the outskirts of her camp, he pointed to a tree and told her he would leave one of the white flowers there for her to spot when it was safe for her to meet him. They had kissed again bitter-sweetly, neither one wanting to part from the other. But eventually, Octavia had turned around and headed inside the walls and Lincoln had left for Anya’s.

When he arrived at Anya’s outpost, it was to see an army amassing. “You’re too late, Lincoln!” Anya called out when she saw him. “Indra has already sent her warriors and Caliban just returned. _Heda_ wants the Sky People exterminated.” She waved him over to her side.

“The ship crashed. No survivors.” Lincoln followed her into the building where Anya’s second, Tris, was sharpening a sword.

“Then it will be over quickly for them.” Anya smirked as she motioned for Tris to leave.

“There’s still time to stop this.” Lincoln wasn’t sure of what else to say. He knew he wouldn't be able to survive another war. If he lived, he would become like Caliban and Vik, heartless and bloodthirsty, a monster.

“It’s already started.” Anya crossed her arms over her chest. “Delano the Outcast had one of them captive. He’s been let go to return to their village. He carries the sickness with him to soften the battlefield for us.”

Lincoln shook his head slowly at her. “This isn’t right, Anya. They’re not warriors like us.”

“You’re either with us or against us.” Anya’s brow creased as her eyes narrowed. “It’s too late, isn’t it? You’re not going to let her go.”

Lincoln sucked in his breath sharply. He opened his mouth to speak, to say the words that would doom him to a traitor’s death, the Death from a Thousand Cuts. “Anya….”

Anya raised her hand, stalling him. “The rest of the warriors will be here soon. We attack in two days.” She looked at him closely. “You have until then. Either leave or fight.”


	26. One of the Strong Ones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The start of I Am Become Death

 

* * *

He had fought many battles side-by-side with Anya, saving her life just as many times as she had saved his. He had used their camaraderie to his advantage as he continued trying to sway Anya to no avail. She had given him a choice, a choice many others didn’t get, and that was her final say. He knew his leaving pained her; he saw her gulp as she turned away from him. That was enough of a goodbye for him.

After he got back from Anya’s last night, he went to the Sky People’s camp and placed a white flower in the tree for Octavia before returning to his cave to wait. He had never been dependent upon anyone before. He lived alone on the outskirts of society and he liked his hermit lifestyle…until Octavia fell from the sky. Now, so quickly, he couldn’t imagine life without her. There was still no sign of her and it was making him anxious. He started working on the painting of the explosion again even though it seemed pointless when he wouldn’t be returning. Maybe the next scout who took up residence here would appreciate it.

His thoughts turned back to his absent angel. Before he became a scout, during the wars between the clans, one of his jobs was as an emissary for the _Heda_ , traveling among the Clans. He had made allies with many of them and knew they would welcome him in. Only one, however, would be willing to go against their _heda_ and allow Octavia to join them: the _Floukru_. He chuckled nervously at himself, already planning for Octavia to join him. He wasn’t sure if she would agree, if she would be willing to part with her brother. He wasn’t even sure what he would do if she _didn’t_ say yes.

All too soon, he finished his wall painting and she still had not arrived. His heart quaked at the thought of her being there when the boy with the sickness returned, wondering if that was what had delayed her. She might be lying there in the camp, bleeding from her orifices while he stormed around his cave worrying himself mad. He didn’t want to consider the worse option but her dying from it still flashed through his mind. No, she was too strong and stubborn to die. He began sharpening his blades, the ones he would take with him on his journey.

“Lincoln?” He was startled to hear her voice, having long since subdued his racing thoughts by pretending he wasn’t expecting her to come. “Lincoln.”

He rushed to her side, inspecting her nostrils, her eyes, her ears. No inflammation, no discoloration, no blood.

“You knew.”

He sighed, removing his hands from her face. “I tried to get you out of there. You not see the flower?”

“I saw it.” She glanced down, watery tears (thankfully not blood) forming in the corners of her eyes. Then her chin straightened and she looked back up, glaring. “Right before I found the kid your people sent to infect us,” she said with disgust. “People are dying, Lincoln.” Lincoln swallowed. If kids were dying, then they were weaker than he’d expected. “Clarke sent me here for the cure.” Her voice had gone cold and unemotional.

Lincoln shook his head. “There is no cure.” He was unable to further bear having let her down so he turned and walked away from her. He felt his arrow wound pull and flinched as his hand went up his shoulder, focusing on the pain because it hurt less than her disappointment in him.

“So you were just gonna let my people die?” She followed him across the room.  She was angry. “You were gonna let me die?” Furious.

He wasn’t sure what more she had expected him to do. He would have told her about it the night before if she had ever come. He turned toward her. “The sickness passes quickly,” he explained to her. “Few are immune. We use it to soften the battlefield.” She was still glaring at him so fiercely and it was beautiful; it meant that she was healthy and immune. His gaze fell tender and he smiled as he cupped her cheeks in his hands again. “I am not surprised you are one of the strong ones.”

“The battlefield?”

Lincoln’s smile dropped as he was brought back to the present. “They attack at first light.”

Her mouth opened in shock, her eyes widening with fear. She grabbed hold of his arms. “You're gonna have to help me save them.”

“I can’t.” He pulled away. “I tried!” It hurt that she didn’t think he had. He had spent hours trying to convince Anya otherwise. “My people think I’m traitor now.”

“Because of the bridge? You were just trying to make peace.”

“It’s not the bridge,” he said succinctly.

“Because of me.” He saw her blaming herself and he wanted her to stop but it was close enough to the truth: it was because he chose her over his own people. When he didn’t respond, she replied with a simple yet resigned, “Oh.”

“That doesn't matter now.” He took her hands in his. “I'm leaving, Octavia. Right now. I want you to come with me.” His voice was hushed, scared of her answer.

“And go where?” she asked.

“East to the sea, then across it. There's a clan, allies of the Woods, but they'll take us.”

He knew she was about to say yes, that she wanted to go with him. Then she exhaled, closing her eyes briefly. “I can't just let my brother get killed.”

“There is nothing you can do to stop that now.” He said it more angrily than he had intended but he just wanted to run away with her _now_ and put everything behind them.

“I can warn them.” Her indomitable spirit was getting in the way of his happiness.

“Octavia, they'll kill you.” His heart was pounding much too fast. “If you're there at dawn….”

“I won't be.” She shook her head. “Just wait for me here. I'm coming with you,” she said resolutely as she stepped away to leave. His heart continued its rampant beating, but this time from exhilaration. She was coming with him!

“Wait.” He took her face once more in his hands and kissed her. He needed this kiss in case it was the last time he ever saw her, if the worst happened. He needed it to remind him of why he was cutting all ties with the _Trikru_ and giving up any final attempts at belonging to a people he never fully understood. He needed her to know how joyful she made him, how joyful he would make her. Her hands reached up, gripping tightly onto his as she kissed him back before turning her head away to place a kiss into his palm. She gave him one last look overflowing with worry, excitement, fear, concern, love, and finally hope. And then she was gone.


	27. I'm Not Going With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> End of I Am Become Death

 

* * *

He woke several hours before dawn, unable to get any more sleep. He was a trained warrior; he was able to sleep anywhere. Hell, he had slept standing up after being tortured. But this time it was different. He wasn’t worrying about himself or the next battle. He was worried about Octavia.

He started packing a second go-bag, this one for her. He had refrained from doing so earlier, not wanting to be so certain of her choice, but now…. He smiled. For the first time in a long time, he was able to imagine having a future. With her. Once they joined the _Floukru_ across the sea, they would be part of a community, something she had never experienced before. He thought of having a family with her, of girls with their mother’s expressive eyes and boys with her stubborn chin. Of living in peace and growing old together. His soul felt lighter than it had ever been. He had lived so long in apathy that it took him a while to recognize what he was feeling was hope; she had given him hope for a better life.

The morning birds starting chirruping, calling upon the sun to rise. Lincoln nibbled on his lip nervously. She had promised to be here before daybreak, before the attack happened on her camp. Had she changed her mind? He wasn’t waiting around any longer; he was going after her.

He began putting on his gear, strapping weapons into place on his body. He stumbled involuntarily as rocks rained down from the ceiling and the ground shook. The quake was quickly followed by the sound of a large explosion. He rushed out of his cave, falling to his knees as he looked in the direction of the bridge. A giant mushroom cloud swathed the morning sky, towering high over trees and hilltops. The unfamiliar chill of fear made him shiver in the pre-dawn twilight. He was too late.

He knelt there in the dirt for a moment, unable to breath, unable to comprehend. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. It was an explosion, that meant it was technology the _Trikru_ didn’t have, leaving either the Sky People or the Mountain Men as the culprits. He felt the constriction around his throat ease even as his stomach started knotting at the thought of how many _Trikru_ warriors might have just been killed. He thought of Anya and Tomac, two people he once considered friends. He closed his eyes for a moment and said a prayer to the ancestors to welcome those who joined them today. He stood up and headed back into his cave, unable to alleviate the turmoil roiling in his gut.

He finished gearing up and draped his bag across his chest before walking over to the table under his painting of the explosion he had just finished a couple of days earlier like some sort of prognosticator. It now sickened him. He paused as he heard Octavia climbing down into his cave, glad that she was finally here yet still unable to dispel the revulsion at what the Sky People had done. He grabbed an extra set of knives for Octavia and put them into the bag he had made up for her.

He slung his horn over his head as Octavia entered the room. “We had to stop the attack,” she said by way of explanation.

“Look. There is so much you don't understand,” he said heatedly as he started to become overwhelmed by all the conflicting emotions warring within. “The Mountain Men, they'll come and they'll kill us all.” He moved across the room, gathering more supplies. “We have to get out of here while we still got the chance.”

“The Mountain Men?” she asked. “You mean the drawings in your book?”

Lincoln picked up another dagger and shoved it into her pack. “Yeah. Now let's go. We got a lot of ground to cover before dark.” He lifted her bag onto his shoulder and headed for the exit.

“I'm not going with you.”

He stopped, turning around, not sure he heard her properly until he saw the seriousness of her expression. That sick feeling came back. She reached into the bag she brought and pulled out his journal, the one he assumed was long gone, and held it out to him. He stepped closer to her, searching her face for a sign of wavering. She pushed the journal at him and he took it, purposefully closing his hand over hers but she slid her fingers out from under his touch. "You'll die here," he whispered in confusion, still unwilling to accept what she was doing.

She gave an imperceptible nod. "Maybe."

No, this was all wrong. This was not how it was supposed to happen. “Why?”

She swallowed. “You just said it. They're my people.” And he knew she finally understood why he continued returning to his people even under the threat of death. She had found her own people to be loyal to, not to the people who had sent her down to die but to the kids who were sentenced to death with her.

She stepped closer, tears threatening to fall and it took all of Lincoln’s restraint to not hold onto her and steal her away from here anyway. “I'm sorry,” she whispered as a tear finally escaped down her cheek, shredding his heart apart.

She leaned up to kiss him, tears continuing to fall. His jaw stiffened, unsure if he would be able to bear it. She paused, somehow knowing it was too much for either of them and pressed her lips to his cheek instead. He closed his eyes, wanting to hold onto this moment forever as he tried to hold back his own tears.

“Goodbye, Lincoln,” she whispered.

Coward that he was, he was unable to say anything or do anything to stop her as she left. He was frozen, unaccustomed to the pain in his chest and the tightness that had returned to his throat. His hand crept up to his face, feeling wetness on his cheek. He was crying. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had cried.

His hand curled into a fist around the tears. He knew what he had to do next. He had known since that moment he first saw her lying there at the bottom of the ravine and he realized he couldn’t let her die. He tried not to think of it as betraying his people or helping the enemy. Instead, he was protecting Octavia any way he could. He set out for Anya’s outpost once more, this time not to report back on the Sky People but to spy on the _Trikru_.


	28. You're Not the Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two for today in order to catch up (I forgot there were 31 days in August). Two more days and two more chapters!

 

* * *

At first, there had been a flurry of movement at the compound as the _Trikru_ warriors regrouped there after the bridge explosion. Four dead, sixteen injured; not as bad as Lincoln had feared. From the stories the elders told, the explosions had caused much greater death and destruction than that, leaving mile-wide craters in their wake. He wasn’t going to lie; it warmed the ache in his heart to see Anya as alive and as vibrant as ever. Tomac was also there, one of the injured but at least alive; he had a family waiting for him back in _Tondisi_.

Anya sent riders out to report back to Indra and Lexa, the _Heda_ of the Twelve Clans. The dead were returned to their villages for mourning. Some of the injured, including Tomac, were also carted away back to their villages for their healers to care for them, and Lincoln thought wistfully of Nyko, remembering their last goodbye.

Two days later, however, Anya had yet to retaliate making Lincoln wonder if she were waiting for still more warriors to come. If so, it would be a slaughter, not a battle. It was mid-morning when there was movement as Anya, Caliban, and Vik left in the direction of the Sky People’s camp. It was only the three of them but Lincoln followed anyway, wanting any excuse to return to his angel. Besides, he was still wary of Vik.

As the group neared the camp, Vik separated from the other two and climbed up into the trees where Lincoln was crouched. He did not follow further, not wanting to risk being spotted by Vik. He was torn between remaining close by in case Vik followed through on his threat to harm Octavia, or returning to the outpost, trusting that Anya would keep Vik in check. He decided to wait it out.

It was another hour or so before the threesome reappeared, heading back to the outpost with their bounty in tow: Clarke and Finn. Lincoln rolled his eyes at how easily Anya had captured the leader of the Sky People. And she thought they were a threat. Lincoln knew he would be unable to follow once they were inside the compound so he took up post in a tree and waited, knowing Anya would have already killed them if that had been the plan.

Lincoln reached in his bag, intending to find himself a snack but felt his journal instead, sending a jab of pain through his chest. He pulled it out, blinking his eyes rapidly as they clouded over from unspilled tears. She had kept it safe for him all this time. It pleased him that it hadn’t been destroyed or wasn’t some war trophy of her brother’s. He opened it, automatically turning to one of the sketches he had drawn of her. His fingers caressed the image as the corner of his mouth creased up into a half-smile. He noticed something poking out of the back and flipped to the last few pages. There, pressed between the pages was a white flower. He exhaled slowly, lifting the flower to his nose. He closed his eyes as he was still able to catch a hint of the fragrance that now so strongly reminded him of his angel. He returned the flower to the pages and tucked his journal back away along with his thoughts of his stubborn beauty.

* * *

It was late in the evening when Lincoln watched one of Anya’s men carry the body of Tris, Anya’s second, out of the outpost. She must have been the reason why Anya had captured Clarke. With Tris now dead, however, it did not bode well for the two Sky People.

Vik exited shortly thereafter, dragging a kicking and fighting Finn along. Vik turned and slugged him in the head, knocking him out cold. He then threw him over his shoulder and carried him away from the compound. Lincoln followed after, knowing it meant Finn was to be executed and disposed of.

Once Vik was far enough away from the others, Lincoln dropped down in front of Vik. “Stop.”

“ _Natrona_!” Vik growled, tossing Finn on the ground and reaching for his knives.

“I don’t want to kill you.” Well, that was a bit of a lie. The world would be a better place without Vik.

Vik charged him, leaving him little choice but to fight. Lincoln deflected the attack easily enough but Vik was bigger than Lincoln and meaner and was able to get in a few good jabs before Lincoln finally took him down with a knife between the ribs and into the heart. He paused, sparing a moment for the gravity of what he had done, and then quickly stripped Vik of his helmet and outer gear before hiding the body. Clarke was still prisoner; she was too valuable to kill so quickly, both as a leader and as a healer, meaning he still had time to save her. He donned the dead man’s clothes and picked up the still-unconscious Finn and carried him toward where the horses were corralled, figuring out his plan as he went.

He nodded a greeting to the guard at the outpost’s signal tower who recognized Vik by his face mask. Lincoln assumed it wasn’t too unusual a sight for Vik to be carrying a body over his shoulder. He retrieved Vik’s horse, (a ghastly two-headed beast, of course) and tossed Finn over the front of it, climbing up behind him. Damn kid was still knocked out. He rode the horse to the next signal tower over from the outpost, knowing it was empty since it had been his responsibility as the scout of that area to maintain it.

Once they arrived, Lincoln unceremoniously dumped Finn off the front of the horse. Finn groaned, rolling over onto his back. The kid was finally awake. Lincoln dismounted and Finn began scrambling backwards away from him in fear.

“Please! Please!” Finn started begging.

“Hey, hey.” Lincoln quickly removed his mask before the kid embarrassed himself. “You wanna save Clarke?”

Finn was still staring in wide-eyed terror at him. Lincoln waved his hand in front of the boy’s face.

“Lincoln?” Finn asked blankly.

“Listen, we gotta do this quickly.” Lincoln hauled Finn to his feet. “I’m going after Clarke. Now, look here.” He pointed behind him at the timber tower. “I need you to light this on fire for me.” He eyed Finn carefully, not entirely certain he could count on him. “Can you do that in an hour?” It would give Lincoln enough time to get back to the outpost and create a distraction for Anya so he could get Clarke out. Anya would assume it was one of the many warriors swarming the area as they prepared a second time for war.

Finn nodded, still too stunned and too concussed to do much else. That was good enough for Lincoln. He pulled the mask back down and remounted the horse, taking off again to go save Clarke.


	29. To Protect Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We Are Grounders, Part 1.

 

 

* * *

Lincoln arrived back at Anya’s compound still dressed as Vik and just in time to see that Tristan had arrived with his Rangers. The _Heda_ had sent her reinforcements. He watched quietly as Tristan took over command from Anya, ordering the attack against the Sky People for the next morning. Tristan drew his blade, preparing to kill Clarke and Lincoln knew there was no way he would be able to save her, not while surrounded by warriors and archers, not from Tristan.

“Signal fire!” Anya called out. Lincoln expelled his breath. Finn had done it. Just as the fog horn warned of the yellow cloud from within the Mountain, the signal fires warned of the monsters coming up from below the Mountain.

Tristan rushed to Anya’s side. “Reapers.” They captured _Trikru_ , _Azgeda_ , and _Sankru_ alike; not one of the Twelve Clans was safe from their insatiable hunger. They were deadly, powerful, unfeeling creatures that had once been human but changed into beasts that fed on the bodies of those unfortunate enough to have been caught.

“Let them know we see it,” Anya said. One of the warriors brought a torch to the outpost’s own signal tower and lit it on fire in response. “I’ll send my fastest rider to warn the commander.”

“No, there is no time,” Tristan replied. “Kill the prisoner. Get to the river.” Tristan walked off to continue directing the troops. Lincoln took his chance and approached Anya and Clarke.

“Is the boy dead?” Anya asked him.

“Mmmhmm.” Lincoln grunted with a nod.

“Good. Kill the girl. Then catch up.” Anya turned and left.

Clarke clambered away from him in fear, trying to get up a hill. He yanked on the chains encircling her wrists a little too hard; others were watching. She tumbled roughly down the base of the hill, falling unconscious. He brandished his dagger for show, crouching down over her as he waited for the rest of the warriors around the compound to disperse.

Once he was alone, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, heading for Vik’s horse once more. He was gentler with Clarke than with Finn and tucked her in front of him on the horse as he rode toward the signal tower Finn had lit. She awoke just as they approached. Lincoln climbed off from behind her and helped her dismount before cutting the ropes that bound her wrists. Finn stepped out and Clarke ran to him.

“Oh, my god,” she cried as they hugged. “I don’t understand how….”

Finn glanced over at Lincoln as Lincoln removed Vik’s face mask. “Lincoln saved my life,” Finn breathed out. “He killed one of his own people to do it.”

Clarke walked back toward him. “Signal fire?” She pointed back toward Anya’s outpost. “That was you?”

Lincoln continued watching the glow of the fire from Anya’s. They hadn’t figured out yet that the Reapers weren’t coming. “We needed a distraction.”

“I’d say it worked,” Finn said, almost as a curse because Anya’s responding fire went out.

“Not well enough,” Lincoln replied.

“What’s it mean?” Finn asked.

“It means Anya knows Clarke’s not dead. We need to hurry.” Lincoln took Vik’s horse and turned it in the direction of the Sky People’s camp. “Yah!” He set the horse free. “Let’s hope they follow the horse,” Lincoln said as he turned away.

“Hey, what do we do now?” Finn asked stupidly.

“Now we run!” Lincoln took off, not waiting to see if they followed. He needed to get to Octavia before Tristan and Anya arrived with their army of at least four hundred strong. The Sky People’s only salvation from being butchered was to get out of the camp in time.

Clarke and Finn followed Lincoln through the forest as he led them toward the Mountain and the vast network of underground tunnels that would take them to the camp; the Reaper tunnels. “Come on,” he said, urging them on, hearing the distant sound of hoof beats. “It’s right up here.”

“What is?” Finn asked.

“Someplace they won’t follow.” Lincoln directed them to a mine entrance.

Clarke paused. “Wait. Where does it lead?”

“Everywhere,” Lincoln replied as the sound of horses galloping grew closer. “There’s a tunnel to your camp.” He pointed. “If we make it through, we should get there before Tristan.” He saw the first of the warriors arriving. It was Anya. “Go.” Clarke and Finn continued standing around. “Go!” He waited until they were out of sight before ducking into the tunnel after them. An arrow whizzed by, narrowly missing his arm.

“LINCOLN!” He heard Anya shouting after him. A stab of pain hit him in his left side and he grunted. The second arrow hadn’t missed. He kept running, knowing Anya wouldn’t chance following him into the tunnels, knowing Tristan wouldn’t let her.

Once they got far enough into the tunnels, he stopped Clarke and Finn. He crouched down and quickly lit a fire so he could check his map of the tunnels.

“You were right.” Finn panted. “They didn’t follow us.”

“Reapers use these tunnels,” Lincoln explained. “Tristan wouldn’t risk running into them.”

“What the hell’s a Reaper?” Finn asked.

“Pray you never find out.” Lincoln lit a torch to guide their way. “We have to keep moving.” He stood up, grunting as he was reminded of the arrow sticking out of his back.

“Lincoln, you’re hit.” Finn said unnecessarily.

“Hey, let me look at that.” Clarke hurried over to Lincoln’s side. He grimaced and passed the torch to Finn, having to accept Clarke’s help because he couldn’t reach the arrow’s shaft behind him. She pulled up his shirt, inspecting the angle of the arrow.

“I’ve fought battles with worse wounds than this,” Lincoln said.

“We’re not in a battle right now,” Clarke replied.

She really had no idea. Lincoln turned his head away and sighed. “Yes, we are.”

She leaned in close to him and whispered, “Why are you helping us?” He looked back at her.

“This can't just be about Octavia,” Finn said.

Lincoln wasn’t going to dignify that with an answer. It _was_ about Octavia. As long as he was alive, it would always be about Octavia.

“Fine. Don't tell us,” Clarke said. “Give me your knife.” She removed Lincoln’s knife from his hip and passed it to Finn. “Heat the blade.” She turned back toward him and he felt the shaft tug in his side as she grasped the end of it. “You might want something to bite down on.”

He scoffed. “You people are so soft. If you don't learn to be more—Aah!” Clarke shoved against the shaft, pushing the arrowhead through his side and out the front. He grunted as he broke off the arrowhead from the shaft so Clarke could pull it out. He focused on breathing through the pain. That had hurt a lot worse than he remembered, even worse than when Bellamy had stuck the spike through his hand.

He looked back at Clarke, a frown on her face and sadness in her eyes. She looked so much like a child in that moment and it reminded him again how truly inexperienced these kids really were. “What my people are doing to yours is wrong.”

Neither one responded, accepting his answer. He gritted his teeth as Clarke took the heated blade from Finn and brought it to Lincoln’s side, searing the hole shut. Once his wounds were treated, he removed his journal and flipped through the pages, looking for the map of the tunnels within.

He took them through the tunnels, listening for Reapers as they twisted and winded ever closer to the Sky People’s camp. Lincoln paused for a moment and passed Finn the torch so he could check the map again and make sure they were still going the right way.

Finn leaned over, catching a glimpse of the map. “Wait. If you were never down here, how’d you map it?”

“Spoils of war,” he replied as Clarke started to wander further down the tunnel.

“What is that?” Clarke asked just as the sounds of grunting and howling reached Lincoln’s ears.

Lincoln straightened up. “Reapers.” He took the torch back from Finn and doused it in a puddle. No reason to draw attention to themselves. He motioned them to continue following him and took them down another tunnel. The sounds grew closer. The Reapers were blocking their route. He edged around a corner in the tunnel with Finn and Clarke close behind him.

“This can’t be the only way,” Finn breathed out nervously.

“If you want to get home before Tristan slaughters your people, this is the only way.” He crept closer through the tunnel, keeping himself hidden as he peered around the corner at the gathered Reapers. There were at least six in the middle of a feast.

“Clarke,” Finn whispered. “The carts.” He pointed out the mining carts filled with bodies.

“What the hell is this?” Clarke asked.

Lincoln turned back toward them. “The tunnel on the right will lead you through the woods into your camp.” He passed Finn his journal. “Take this.”

Finn slipped it into the front of his jacket, making Lincoln nervous he might lose it. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to lead them away.” Lincoln removed his sword. “Wait until they follow me. Then run.” He passed his sword to Finn. “For Octavia,” he said, letting Finn know it really was all about her.

“Wait a second,” Clarke said. “If they catch you, they’ll kill you.”

“Worry about yourselves.” He needed them to get back to Octavia. “Most of Tristan’s Rangers will be at your gate by nightfall, but he’ll send riders ahead, scouts. All of you have to be gone before they arrive.”

“One of them’s coming,” Finn warned. Lincoln took out his dagger in preparation.

“Where are we supposed to go?” Clarke asked.

“In my book, there's a map. Chart a course to the eastern sea. There's a clan there, led by a woman called Luna, a friend. Tell her I sent you.” He had no idea if Luna, the leader of the _Floukru_ , would welcome some eighty-odd Sky People in, but the uncertainty of acceptance was better than the certainty of death if they remained behind.

Finn grabbed his arm. “Thank you.”

“Just get Octavia out of there.” Lincoln turned around, waiting for the Reaper to lose interest and then he came up behind it. The Reaper spun around. It sliced at Lincoln with its knife but Lincoln was faster and slashed it deep across its throat. The smell of fresh blood and the gurgle of its death brought the attention of the other Reapers. Lincoln stood still, waiting till they saw him, and then turned and ran, leading them away from Clarke and Finn as he tried not to think about what might happen if they didn’t get back to Octavia in time.


	30. Keep Her Safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We Are Grounders, Part 2. This is the end of the Lincoln Chronicles, Part 1.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 30 chapters in 30 days! I finished it!

 

* * *

He ran all through the early morning hours, trying to avoid both the Reapers and the warriors all around. The warriors were converging on the river, preparing to make their way toward the Sky People camp so they were easy enough to dodge, assuming he was just another warrior. The Reapers, on the other hand, once they latched onto their next victim were relentless in their hunt, unstoppable and nigh on unkillable. The cannibalistic terrors that hunted his people had once been friends and family until they were stripped of all humanity, including weakness.

It took him most of the day to lose the Reapers but when he finally did, he headed back to his cave. He needed more supplies, having left most of his behind when he had changed into Vik’s clothes. After he finished there, he would catch up with the Sky People on their march to the sea. He had to believe that’s what they were doing right now; he couldn’t think otherwise.

He entered his cave cautiously, knowing Anya had sent people there after the bridge explosion and not sure of what he might find. There was someone inside, rustling around, knocking things over. Lincoln drew his knife, creeping up silently behind the intruder. He was searching for something, moving from one area to the next, leaving destruction in his wake. His light caught on Lincoln, causing the boy to spin around in surprise.

“Lincoln!” It was Finn. “You made it.”

Lincoln lowered his knife, furious at seeing the kid again. “I told you to leave.” If anything had happened to Octavia because of Finn….

“We tried. The scouts were already there.”

“Sterling, do you copy?” Bellamy’s voice suddenly squawked out from a box in Finn’s pocket.

“What’s that?” Lincoln asked. Finn removed the box and handed it to Lincoln. Voices continued to call out from it, requesting backup and ammo. He was listening in on their battle. “Why are you not there?”

“Raven was shot,” Finn replied. Raven was the one who came down in her own ship, the one who had tortured Lincoln with ropes of fire. “We need medicine to slow the bleeding.”

He didn’t understand. “You came to save _one_ life?”

“I don’t have time to explain,” Finn said urgently. “Do you have the medicine or not?”

“I have it.” Lincoln headed toward his medicine cupboard and retrieved his pouch, throwing it at Finn.

Bellamy’s voice came across the radio again. “Stand your ground. If they take the gate, we’re all dead.”

It wasn’t too late to save Octavia. “I’m going with you. Let’s go.” Lincoln waved at Finn to follow him as he left.

“Wait!” He heard Finn call out.

Lincoln re-entered to see Finn crouched down, holding a page torn from one of his field guides. “Finn, let’s move!”

“How far did the Reapers chase you?” Finn asked.

“They’d still be chasing me if I didn’t lose them. Why?” Why was this kid wasting time they didn’t have?

“I have a really bad idea.”

“Well, tell me while we’re moving then. Let’s go!”

“Can we get the Reapers to chase us again?” Finn asked as he finally followed Lincoln out of the cave.

Lincoln caught on with where Finn was going with his plan. It just might work. “Yeah.” He gave Finn a once-over. The kid wouldn’t be fast enough to outrun the Reapers. “You go on ahead. I’ll find them and bring them with me. When you see me coming, be ready to run.”

Finn nodded and took off in the direction of the camp while Lincoln headed back to where he had last lost the Reapers. They quickly caught his scent and the chase was back on again. This time, Lincoln led them straight for the camp.

Suddenly, there was a boom from up above; a massive explosion in the night. The Reapers behind Lincoln paused. Lincoln himself paused, looking up into the heavens, bearing witness to a fireball rocketing toward earth. The fireball separated into hundreds of dripping stars, a spectacle of light painting the evening sky. The rest of the Sky People were finally coming down.

The Reapers quickly resumed the hunt, whooping and hollering after Lincoln as he led them through the forest. He neared the camp, seeing Finn up ahead, waiting for him. “Run!” He shouted and Finn took off running as they led the Reapers straight to the front gates of the camp. Finn darted to the right, heading for the side entrance. Lincoln paused, spotting Tristan and Anya, then turned and followed after Finn. The clanging of swords and battle cries soon rang out as the Reapers engaged Tristan’s army at the front gate.

Finn had already found his way inside the walls by the time Lincoln came around the side of the camp. He never made it to the side entrance, spotting an all-too-familiar head ducked behind a tree. Of course she’d be outside the walls.

“Octavia!” He rushed to her side, seeing she was with her brother.

She turned, shock and joy on her face when she saw him. “Lincoln?”

He grasped her face between his hands and brought her head against his, cheek to cheek, breathing in her life energy. They held each other close for a moment before Lincoln pulled back to make sure she was okay. He glanced over at Bellamy.

“You did this?” Bellamy asked. He was watching Lincoln carefully and that pensive gaze was back.

Octavia clung to Lincoln’s hand on her face, gasping in pain. “With Finn,” he said as he looked her over, finding the arrow embedded in her right thigh. She must have been hexed in that leg. “It’s deep.” He wouldn’t be able to treat it there in the field. “I can help you but you’ll have to come with me now.”

Lincoln followed her gaze as she looked to Bellamy for permission. Bellamy gave a slight nod. “Go.” Octavia stared at her brother, stunned. “Let him help.”

“No way.” Octavia huffed through the pain. “I have to see this through.” She was shot in the leg with an arrow and she still obstinately refused to quit.

Bellamy shook his head. “You can’t walk and I can’t get you back to the dropship.”

“He’s right,” Lincoln said. “This fight is over for you.”

Octavia closed her eyes, her head falling back against the tree trunk behind her in defeat.

“O, O, listen to me.” Octavia opened her eyes for her brother, revealing the tears waiting to fall. “I told you my life ended the day you were born. The truth is it didn’t start until then.” Lincoln saw it then, the reason Octavia hadn’t been willing to leave her brother before, the love between the two siblings who had prevailed together through an unfair life. “Go with him. I need you to live. Besides….” Bellamy smirked boyishly at her. “I got this.”

Octavia hugged Bellamy close, crying against his shoulder before they parted. “I love you, big brother.” She gave Bellamy a watery smile.

Bellamy nodded at her. “May we meet again.”

“May we meet again,” Octavia whispered back, nodding in return.

Bellamy helped Octavia stand and got her situated so Lincoln could pick her up without jarring her leg too much. Octavia wrapped her arms around Lincoln’s neck, looking behind him to her brother one last time. Lincoln paused, turning back as well, eternally grateful to the man who had just handed him his world.

“Keep her safe,” Bellamy said to him and Lincoln finally saw and respected Bellamy as the man who had raised his impossible angel into the incredible woman she had become.

He nodded, letting him know he understood the magnitude of what Bellamy was asking of him. Lincoln didn’t expect it to mean so much to him, but it did. He turned and carried Octavia away as she watched over Lincoln’s shoulder, long after he knew she could no longer see Bellamy. Eventually, she tucked her head into his chest. Her shoulders trembled as she silently cried, soaking the front of his shirt. He carried her away from the camp, away from the battle, away from her people, away from her brother. They were at last heading to the safety of the _Floukru_.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Inside his Mind](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6548605) by [1KnowWhyTheCagedShipperSings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/1KnowWhyTheCagedShipperSings/pseuds/1KnowWhyTheCagedShipperSings)




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